


Jet Lag

by JenniKirschtein



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexuality, Cheating, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Gen, Heteronormativity, Heterosexual Sex, Heterosexuality, Homosexuality, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Levi/Erwin Smith - Freeform, Light BDSM, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Multi, Partying, Scratching, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Smut, Yaoi, eruri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:03:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3902323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniKirschtein/pseuds/JenniKirschtein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a break-up with long time girlfriend, Mikasa, Eren Jaeger's friends decide to treat him to a night out on the town. Thanks to Eren's short temper and road rage, the night takes a different turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The End

          It’s the words no one wants to hear.

“Eren,” her soft but strong voice began, “it’s over.”

          Your heart races before falling into your stomach. Your throat catches. Your eyes close, the moments of every kiss, every “I love you”, every touch plays through your mind. You ponder over which one was actually full of meaning, if any of those words of endearment uttered were actually meaningful at all.

“Why?”

          A simple question, one would think. Part of you wants to know every reason. Hell, you’d sit and watch a full PowerPoint presentation on every single reason. The other part of you doesn’t want to know. Not because you don’t care, of course, the problem is you care too much. You care about everything. It’s every emotion slapping you in the face, sending your body reeling. You can’t even stand anymore, so you sit. Next thing you know you’re on the ground, snot dripping out of your nose. Thankfulness washes over you. Not thankful of the situation, but that the other cannot see you like this. Does it even matter anymore? She might as well see her effect. She made you laugh and now she is making you cry. She deserves to see you.

“I…I don’t love you anymore.”

          You gasp. Your eyes water again. Tears are spilling out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks steadily. Love is such a powerful emotion. It’s a loaded gun, and you’ve just been shot, wounded.

           _Left for dead_.

“Is it something I did?”

            Of course it is. Your mind floods with every conversation, words tumbling through like a new language. It’s entirely your fault. You fucked up, kid.

“No.”

            Then what?

“Is there someone else?”

          Worst case scenario. Your love has blinded you. You don’t notice the flirtatious glances at other guys shared with her when you both stepped into a room. You didn’t think it was a big deal when she said she can’t see you tonight. Her having plans equals a girls’ night out, a late night shift at work.

“Eren—I didn’t…No. There’s not.”

          There is. Every male in existence comes into your head. Who could it be? Who could capture her attention?

“Is it Jean?”

          Your best “frienemy”. Each quip he made at you, how you were not worth a second of her time. How beautiful she was. You remember every single brief exchange between the two. He touched her shoulder. Of course, you shan’t sit there and exaggerate the situation.

“I’m really sorry.”

          Sure she is.

“I gotta go.”

          All you can manage.

“Goodbye, Eren.”

         This is really happening, huh?

“Goodbye, Mikasa.”

          Hanging up the phone after being dumped is probably the worst feeling one could experience. Next to the feeling you get when you're being told you have two days to live. But hey, that could be tragically related. Not for me, though.

          I am Eren Jaeger and I’ve just been left by the most cold-hearted, stoic, apathetic, bitchy, beautiful, and passionate human being on this Earth. Mikasa _fucking_ Ackerman. That’s obviously not her middle name, but it might as well be. She lived next door to me with her parents until she was 7 years old. Her parents were killed in a hit-and-run car accident. She was the only survivor. Our parents were close to each other, resulting in Mom and Dad gaining full responsibility for her welfare. I had to share my room for six months before we moved from Shinganshina, Wall Maria, to the slums of Trost, Wall Rose. There, we lived in a three bedroom home that was older than God. Mom got a job for the first time in years, and Dad picked up a second shift to pay for Mikasa’s schooling.

           Mikasa was brilliant. She was independent. Smart. She was a silent killer, with her charming looks and bitter attitude. Boys drooled over her, girls tried to be her friend. Mikasa was uninterested, but that only made people love her more. Our mutual childhood friend, Armin Arlert--a nerdy, quiet boy that lived down the street from us and went to the same bus stop as us--was the only outsider. Mikasa attached herself to us two, so she didn’t need anyone else.

          Friendship lurched into romance when I kissed Mikasa in the hallway of Trost High School. Armin encouraged me to speak my feelings, even though I feared rejection. He said that it was better to express your feelings and be turned down than it was to never know what it was like. I fumbled over words when I finally had her attention. She smirked her signature smile and grabbed my shirt, our lips colliding with such force our teeth knocked together. As awkward as it was, we became attached at the hip afterwards. We were on the homecoming court in high school, though Mikasa declined the crown and just took the $500 dollar scholarship prize.

         We talked every day. Since she technically was my adopted sister, we lived together and she slept in my bed. Every waking moment was full of her, and to some, that was a punishment. To me, it was a dream.

        That’s why it hurts so bad to be cut off.

        The weekend crawled by at a snail’s pace, and Monday finally poked its ugly head around the corner. I struggled to get out of my empty bed. Mikasa spent the night at Jean’s. I didn’t have a problem with it before, but now I realized what they were up to at those sleepovers. It made my stomach turn. Gagging as I straightened the collar of my shirt, I glanced at myself in the mirror that was resting against the wall. I sighed and leaned in, examining my dark circles and red eyes. I looked like a drug dealer, but I felt like a heartbroken Disney princess.

I waddled into the kitchen to see my mother sitting at the bar, munching on toast. I snagged an apple and crunched it, pale juice dripping down my chin.

“’Mnmurmin’, Mom,” I greeted in between bites of apple. I walked to the small dining room and picked up my bag from the chair. “Have a good day.”

“Wait, come here.” She commanded, rising from her seat. I turned away from her.

“I don’t have time for this; Armin’s picking me up.” I grunted, raising the apple to my mouth and taking a hearty bite, glaring into my mom’s eyes.

“You look like shit. Are you and Mikasa fighting?”

“She dumped me.” I snapped. “I’m going to be late.”

“Oh Eren, sweetie—”

          I slammed the door before I could hear her voice. I didn’t want to hear it. I couldn’t. I just stopped crying, and even the mention of Mikasa’s name was enough to make my gut wrench and my eyes water.  
Armin’s tiny orange pickup truck was parked in the driveway. I could see Armin’s smile from here. His smile was something to kill for. He had a soft approach to him. I could see why he was picked on, besides the fact he was openly gay. He was shy at first, but once he came out to Mikasa and me, he was completely happy and comfortable. He said he only needed our approval; the naysayers didn’t matter. I wished I had Armin’s courage and mindset, sometimes.

          We reached school after a silent car ride. Armin always knew when something was bothering me, and he never bugged me about it. He knew I’d come to him for help when I was ready. I didn’t know when I was going to tell him about the breakup. He definitely needed to know, but I couldn’t choke the words out.

          I got out of the car, thanking Armin again for the ride, and headed into Trost High.

          I didn’t make eye contact with anyone as I walked to my locker. I stared at the open piece of metal, my thoughts racing. Where am I going to eat lunch? How am I going to walk to all my classes without seeing her? What the fuck am I going to do in anatomy class since she’s my lab partner? My heart was slamming in my chest as I swapped textbooks and shoved them into my backpack. Not only was Mikasa my ex, but she also was my adopted sister, meaning I could never get away from her. She was everywhere. Her smell clung to my pillows. Gifts she had given me over the years were scattered around my room. I couldn’t even close my eyes without seeing her. I couldn’t stomach to eat anything, even the apple tasted bitter in my mouth. I never had a girlfriend before, so how was I supposed to handle the aftermath? I watched TV and people went out partying. I don’t see how, since all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and try not to die.

“Good morning, Eren,” the last voice I wanted to hear whispered.

          I slammed my locker closed, not even bothering to look to my left. I would see her perfect black hair, the cold grey eyes, and those soft lips that were once pressed against mine. I cringed. Our last kiss wasn’t even a good one. Just a peck. If I had known that it was our last, I would have made it something that would have convinced her to stay.

“I said ‘good morning’,” she repeated.

“I know.” I snapped.

          I walked away as fast as I could without breaking into a run.

          Encounter one out of seven. This was going to be a long day.

          I saw Mikasa throughout the day. We altered our paths to each class so we could see each other. Now that I’m going straight to class, I’m always on time, which bewildered my classmates, except one.  
Jean Kirschtein.

         My fists clenched. Jean was a tall guy, with mismatched hair that some girls found attractive, while we guys called him a faggot for dyeing his hair. He had a large face and small eyes. The more I scrutinized him, the uglier he was. Mikasa left me for him? Un-fucking-believable. I’m not tooting my own horn here, but I know for a fact that I am much more pleasant to view than Ponyboy over here.  
I took my seat, avoiding Jean’s taunting grin, and pulled out my binder and began tracing small circles and squares.

“’Morning, Jaeger,” Jean said, leaning over to poke my arm with his pencil. “I heard the news about Mikasa. Sucks to suck.”

“Fuck off, Jean, I’m really not in the mood.” I grumbled. I put pressure on my pen on the page, the ink becoming thick and darker with each stroke. Much to my surprise, Jean retreated and focused on the board.

         The day dragged. I had to excuse myself several class periods to go to the bathroom to take a break from school. I broke down several times whenever a friend asked about Mikasa innocently. I couldn’t even call her my ex. It was a term that meant that I didn’t love her anymore. It meant that we never had a chance together. It was a swear word, foreign to my tongue. Crying was exhausting. It wore me out physically, causing me to doze off on the bathroom floor for a few minutes. Waking up was the worst because it was a nice gentle touch of reality that was as soft as being punched in the face with a chair made of metal spikes. My heart ached. Sobs became whimpers as my tears became dry. My breathing became slow and ragged. I took a deep breath and managed to stand up. I walked to the sink and stared at myself in the mirror and saw a different person.

         My eyes were sunken in, outlined by dark shadows that looked like bruises. The whites were red and the pupils were large. My lips were dry and chapped. My face was flushed and damp, with wet strands of matted brown hair fixed onto my cheeks. I took a deep breath, rolled up my sleeves and turned on the faucet. I cupped my hands over the cool water and splashed my face. I stared at my arms, which seemed paler than usual. The hairs were standing up and my skin was prickled with goosebumps from the icy water. I was fixated on the blue lines that traced up my arms, down to my wrist and palms. They were like road maps. I remember Mikasa joking, saying my arms looked like a heroin addict’s with the way they were protuberant.

         A sharp pain on my left wrist caught my attention. I was squeezing it tightly. I released, watching the red hand print turn white then disappear.

         For a moment, for that one moment, I didn’t even think of Mikasa.

         I walked back to class, and as soon as I sat down, the bell rang for lunch. I groaned as I slung my bag over my shoulder. Where the hell was I going to go? My lunch table consisted of myself, Armin, and Mikasa, followed by several mutual friends: Jean, Marco, Sasha, Connie, Christa, and Ymir. I knew Mikasa would be replacing my seat with Jean, and I didn’t know Marco well enough to be comfortable sitting next to him. Conversation will be forced and awkward.

         I decided to go back to the bathroom. I didn’t feel like eating anyway. Seating myself in the handicapped bathroom, I stretched my legs out and rested my back against the wall. I rolled up my sleeves again. I allowed my fingers to trace up the shapes of each vein. It was calming, surprisingly.  
I stood up and turned on the water and put the tips of my fingers in, then held them over my left arm, watching the cold water drip onto my skin, each little drop splattering softly, tiny little droplets creating a crop-circle looking effect. The more I did it, the more my arm looked like it was in the rain. I got chills after a bit, and I sat down as my arm became tingly—as if it was asleep.

        _Hmm._

        The door of the bathroom creaked open, and I heard a male’s voice heave a sigh as he opened a stall door. He set his bag down and I heard the crinkling of the sanitary tissue as he aligned it on the toilet. He eventually sat down, and suppressing a gag, I ruffled through my bag to find my headphones. I cranked up the music while the guy in the stall dropped a major stink bomb.

        Maybe the bathroom wasn’t the place to be messing with my arm.

           I quickly made my exit and headed to the school’s library. I seated myself in one of the giant purple beanbags and played on my phone. I was just finishing a badass round of Candy Crush when I saw a tiny pair of legs standing in front of me. I glanced up and saw Armin, his arms full of books and his eyes full of worry. His mouth was moving. Shit, was he talking to me? I unplugged myself from the phone and looked at him.

“What was that?”

“I was asking you why you weren’t at lunch. I didn’t want to be alone.” He said, kneeling down and placing the books on the ground.

“You wouldn’t have been alone, Armin,” I replied. I wrapped my headphones around my phone and shoved it into my pocket. I sat up and grabbed the neighboring beanbag, dragging it to him. “Sit.”

He did as his face turned into an uncomfortable frown. “I would have.”

“But Mikasa is there, as well as Jean and everyone else. Christa was there, right? You like Christa.”

“I do, but I just don’t feel like—”

“What?”

“I feel like n-no one likes me. I feel like you and Mikasa are my only friends. Everyone else just tolerates me.” He shrugged and looked down. I noticed his eyes beginning to water and his lip quiver.  
_Fuck_. I definitely could not deal with Armin’s problems today.

“Of course they do,” I argued, gently placing my hand on his knee. “You’re really smart and funny. You, Christa, and Marco always talk about books.”

“But Sasha steals my food every day!”

“Sasha steals _everyone’s_ food, Armin,” I dismissed.

“What about Jean? He calls me Coconut Head.” His voice cracked. _Please God, not today._

“Call him ‘Horse Face’, or ‘Pony Boy’, or something. He’s an asshole to everyone but Marco. Ignore him. He’s irrelevant. Completely and utterly irrelevant. He just thinks he’s the fucking coolest kid ever, and he’s so badass and hardcore, but everyone knows he just jerks it in his room to Mozart while looking at Picasso paintings. He has mismatched hair, like some faggot anime character and his eyes look like a fucking hamster’s and his mom looks like Jabba the Hutt and—”

“ _Eren, you’re hurting yourself!_ ” Armin exclaimed in a panic, his tiny hands grabbing my wrist and pulling it away. I looked at my arm and noticed I was digging my nails into my skin. This time, the red marks didn’t fade.

“Sorry. Look, the bell’s about to ring and…and my next class is across the building...” I stuttered, rising quickly and bolting out of the library, my backpack in hand.

             I decided school was done for today. I had better plans.


	2. The Subsist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HUGE trigger warning for this chapter.

I’m actually relieved for the first time in a long time to be home alone.

            I had to walk home since I decided that committing grand theft auto wasn’t worth it. Plus, I wouldn’t want to leave Armin alone at school. Poor guy would have thought someone stole it, which he would be right, but I would at least return it. It was blistering hot outside, and carrying a heavy backpack in a long sleeved shirt was something I didn’t think about in my desperate attempt to play hooky. I threw my backpack onto its original position on the dining room chair and peeled off my sweaty white shirt, tossing it into the hamper on my way to my room. When I opened the door and flung myself down on the bed, I got a strong whiff of Mikasa’s shampoo. I sat straight up; my stomach feeling like it just was punched. This isn’t what I was trying to do. I had anatomy after lunch, and Mikasa was my partner. There’s no way that I could bear to sit next to her for forty-eight minutes, let alone converse with her and do an assignment. No way.

            I rose up from the bed and threw my left arm across the back of my neck, my right arm tugging at my fingers. I heard a satisfying _pop!_ and I switched arms. Making my way to the bathroom, I had to figure out a way to distract myself from Mikasa. I left school to get away from her. I had to tell that to my brain. I stared at my half-naked body in the mirror and sighed.

“Jesus, why are you letting this get to you?” I asked aloud, my palms resting against the cool marble counter.

            I heard the stupid tri-tone of my phone and sighed. I took a deep breath and saw “MIKASA!!”, followed by several emojis, screaming in the notifications.

**Eren, where are u? Mr. Pixis just assigned another bone lab & ur gonna be fucked if u don’t study idiot. Don’t skip cuz of me.**

            I slammed the phone down on the counter. Sadness swiftly turned to anger as I grabbed my razor for shaving and dragged it quickly across my wrist.

“Fucking bitch,” I hissed, the razor clinking to the floor at my feet.

            What the fuck did I just do? I gasped, my palm covering the small mark. Blood drops formed like small bubbles. I fell to my knees and gazed at the fresh wound. It wasn’t deep, but it definitely broke the skin. It was a thin red line with two bubbles of blood and a streak of the red on my right palm. I didn’t feel anything. _Anything._ I didn’t think of Mikasa. I didn’t think of the pain. I was numb. Maybe I was dumbstruck, maybe I was in shock.

            I sat there for what seemed like an eternity, inspecting the trickles of blood. It wound obviously heal in a few days, give or take. The most interesting thing was that I wasn’t crying, I wasn’t upset about Mikasa’s text. I was eerily calm.

            I rose to my feet. I stood in front of the sink and turned on the sink. I held my wrist under the frosty water and sucked in a breath as the water, once clear, turned pale red. I grabbed a bandage from the medicine cabinet hung on the wall and wrapped it carefully.

            Returning to my bed, I was fixated on my arm.

_What was this feeling? Why am I calm?_

            I was not emo. I didn’t listen to My Chemical Romance and spike my hair. I didn’t wear black all the time and I never tried to wear eyeliner. If I wasn’t emo, then why was I cutting myself? Why did that become a reaction? I never had gotten so angry before.

            Maybe it’s the stress of dealing with Mikasa’s bullshit. Maybe I’m finally losing it. Maybe I’m getting a second puberty. Who knows?

            I skipped school the next day, and the day after that. I continued to stay in bed with my door locked. Mom knocked and asked if I was okay several times. She thought about taking the day off, but we both knew we couldn’t afford it. I was left home alone, but I remained in my bedroom. I had my razor disassembled, with just the blade in hand. I flipped it around in my fingers, staring at it. It was small, square, with sharp edge. I used this brand for shaving. I didn’t think of any other purposes until now. Fascination, curiosity, maybe slight desperation for that numb sensation brought me to try it again. I took off the bandage from my first cut and examined it. It was almost healed. There was just a small pink line. Right underneath that, I began to carve into my skin, hissing at the pain. Then another. Another. Another.

            I didn’t notice I was crying. I didn’t notice the hot, sticky blood dripping down my arm and onto my bedsheets. I placed the blade down on the bed and poked at my arm. It was raw and tender, blood spurting with each poke. I took a deep, shaky breath and closed my eyes. My thoughts were at a hundred miles a minute. I was pissed off. I was upset. I hated everything, I hated everyone. I _hated_ this. What was I doing? What the _fuck_ am I doing?

            I was disgusted with myself. I was angry. Of all things to do, I chose this. I gulped down the lump in my throat, collapsing to the floor, clutching my bleeding arm. Why am I such an impulsive idiot? Why didn’t Mikasa notice something was wrong? Why didn’t Armin? Why didn’t Mom stay home? I was alone. Nobody noticed how hurt I am. Maybe they did, and they just didn’t care. Mikasa knew she was hurting me, but she didn’t even once try to talk to me about the situation. I feel so left out. Mikasa and I had the same friends, so who’s side with they take? Am I going to be left alone? I have no other friends. I have no one. I am alone. Mikasa was the only one that I had. And now that she’s gone, where do I go? Where do I fit in? I figured she was all I needed. She was my best friend. My girlfriend. I didn’t need anyone, right? I abandoned everyone else so I could have more time for her. I threw everything away for her. This was the result.

            She won this. She didn’t even seem fazed by it. She picked herself up, got a new boyfriend, and she’s probably making all these plans for Friday with Jean, that fuckface. I wish she would just come to me and talk. We didn’t have to be together, I just want things to be back to normal. I wanted things to not feel awkward and forced. I have no other use for my phone, because she was the only person I texted, even if we were sitting right next to each other. I wish she would tell me she misses me, at least. I know that I didn’t do anything wrong in that relationship. I gave it my all. I gave myself completely.

            And now I’m empty.

            I picked up the razor again and dug the blade in deeper, grunting slightly at the sting. It wasn’t a genuine pain, it was like a paper cut. A big paper cut, I guess. The blood was the best part for me; in some sick way, I actually _enjoyed_ looking at the blood. It was a dark red that was beautiful. It was thick and sticky, like chocolate syrup. I figured that laundry day will be every day since it was a messy thing. I know I’m getting into something that could kill me. I know this isn’t good, and I am starting to feel guilty and stupid. There are so many things running through my head, other things I could’ve done besides this. Why did I do this again? I can’t even control my thoughts. I feel all over the place. I took a deep breath and exhaled hard, standing to rinse off my arm in the sink. I used hot water this time, noticing the burning sensation was worse (better?) than using cold water. I then began wrapping my wrist up with Band-Aids and an ace bandage then sliding into a comfortable, loose long-sleeve grey shirt with some design on it that I didn’t really care for.

            I sat down on my bed again and looked at the door, hearing someone bustling about in the living room. My bedroom was next to it, so it was hard to sleep at night sometimes because I could hear my parents talking in the living room. Our house was small, sometimes too small for a family of four. It was fine when we were little, but now that Mikasa and I were older, the house became cramped. Armin made note of that several times when he would come over to hang out, and that’s why we would open up the dividing door between Mikasa and my room. She’d often travel through that door to sneak into my room at night, or to just cut across to use the bathroom, so she could avoid Mom and Dad arguing in the living room. Luckily, my bedroom, like most rooms of the house except my parent’s room, dining room, and living room, had wooden floors.

            Making my way to the living room, I saw my mom sitting on the couch, looking stressed. Standing right in front of her was Mikasa, her hands on her hips, a scowl on her face. I shut my door immediately, leaning against it to hear their conversation.

“…left school because he didn’t want to see me. You need to talk to him and tell him to stop acting so childish. I broke up with him yesterday. He needs to get over it.” Mikasa’s voice was littered with agitation.

“It’s only been a day, love. Everyone goes through their healing process at different paces. I do agree with you, though; he needs to stay in school. I’ll let him stay home for the rest of this week. You were his first girlfriend, and I remember my first breakup. It’s rough,” Mom always knows the right thing to say. She never took sides, but she stood in the middle ground and helped us both see the error in our ways. It was an incredible talent that no one possessed.

“Fine, but I’m staying at Jean’s.”

“Fair enough. That’ll give him time to heal. He needs space away from girls for a bit. He needs to go out with the boys. You should hang out with your girlfriends this weekend. How’s Annie doing? You haven’t seen her in a while.” Mom asked.

“She’s fine, Mom,” she responded with a sigh, clearly bored with the conversation. “I’m going to go study my bone lab with Jean at Starbucks, since Eren is being a pussy. I’ll tell Mrs. Kirschtein you said hi.” I heard her footsteps grow farther, then the click of the door. Deeming it safe, I exited my room and took a seat next to Mom on the couch.

“Hi.”

“I know you heard. Usually you would wait fifteen seconds before coming out of your hiding spot.” She said with a smirk. She turned to face me and she took my hands. “I know you too well.”

“I don’t want to go out with the guys. I just want to stay in bed.”

“This could be good for you, baby. You need to have some fun instead of moping around in that cave of yours. Mikasa is a great girl, but she’s not the only girl on the planet. You’ll meet tons of girls. You got the Jaeger _swag_.” She joked, squeezing my hands gently. I cracked a smile.

“You did _not_ just say ‘swag’. Mom, that’s not cool.”

“I’m just saying you’re handsome and you can woo any girl with those eyes of yours.” She defended, giggling. “You’re a good looking boy. But I don’t want you to date until you’re ready. Just have some fun for a while, but be safe. I’ll give you my card so you can go out Friday night with Armin and the boys. You can stop by Walgreens and get some love gloves.”

“Ew, Mom, _please_!”

“I just want you to wrap your willy if you’re going to be silly!”

“ _MOM!_ ” I snorted, pushing her away playfully.

“While going in heat, package your meat!”

“Stop!”

“Last one, last one, I promise,” she said in between chuckles. “Cage that snake, then you can shake ‘n’ bake!”

            I was actually smiling, even _laughing_ for the first time in days. It was a good feeling, and for most kids, it would be awkward to talk about sex with their mother, but my mom always adapted herself to fit everyone’s sense of humor. She knew how to cheer me up, and she never failed. Grinning, I hugged her tightly. “Thanks, Mama.” I whispered.

“Now go call your friends and make plans for Friday.” She instructed, ruffling my hair. “I love you.”

“Mom, stop,” I groaned. I did not want to turn this into an episode of _Full House_. I was still beaming when I got back to my room and into the bathroom where I left my phone. My heart sank when I saw the notification from Mikasa’s text message. Closing my eyes for a brief second as I unlocked my phone, I quickly deleted the message and texted Armin.

 **Hey dude, wanna hang out this weekend?**       

            I strolled to my bed and sat down, staring at my phone. A few seconds later, the tri-tone chimed.

**Heck yes! You really needed to get out this weekend, Eren. We could go to Garrison’s if you want.**

            Garrison’s Arcade was the grown-up version of Chuck-E-Cheese’s. It had pool tables, tons of arcade games, Go-Karts, and even a rock climbing mountain indoors. Beer was served, of course, but since we’re all 16 and 17, we preferred the root beer. Like any arcade, you won tickets each time you played a game. Those tickets can be transferred into really cool prizes. There’s legitimate swords and other weapons (though you’d have to have over three million tickets and had to be 18+), video games and their systems, iPods, stuffed animals, figurines, and board games. It was a real treat going there, considering it was super expensive.

**Ok lol wanna bring anyone? Maybe Connie and Marco? Mom’s lettin me use her debit card so we can go CRAZY!!!**

Armin quickly responded: **I’ll text them right now! We all could go to my house Friday. Grandpa is cooking his homemade lobster stir-fry and you know I love that stuff c: I’ll drive us there and back. My truck’s big enough for us 4.**

**Sounds gr8. See you tomorrow @ school :D**

I clicked send, smiling from ear to ear. Maybe things won’t be so bad tomorrow after all.

            Though the small sting on my arm reminded me otherwise.


	3. The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's an asshole tbh

Returning to school was awful. Nobody said a thing to me, probably because they all saw Jean and Mikasa holding hands and kissing in the hallway. I stayed with Armin as much as I could. He walked me to all my classes, even though it made him late to his.

            At lunch, Armin, Marco, Connie, and I met in the library. We made a square of purple beanbags and discussed our plans for tonight. We were going to go to Armin’s after school, finish our homework, eat Grandpa Arlert’s Infamous Lobster Stir-Fry, then make our way downtown to Garrison’s Arcade. Marco was nervous because the neighborhood was tricky. It was in the bar district, and gang members and college kids usually held the place in a drunken reign all weekend. Armin, surprisingly, was persistent to give me the guys’ night that I deserved. Which was a sweet thought, in my opinion. I bet Mikasa was wondering where we all were, considering all the guys except Jean were missing from the usual lunch table. I tried to not think about her. Today was Guys’ Day. I wouldn’t think about Mikasa or females in general, except maybe the hot blonde bartender at Garrison’s.

“Why so quiet, Eren?” Marco asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.

“Just thinkin’ about Garrison’s tonight.” I answered. Marco was a good looking guy. He was much nicer than Jean, which was odd because Jean was such a douche. He didn’t deserve a best friend like Marco. Girls swooned over his freckles and polite smile. He was the embodiment of Prince Charming. I saw Armin checking him out several times. I don’t swing that way personally, but Armin does have good taste, and Marco would be a good guy for Armin to be involved with.

“I’m excited, honestly. I haven’t been in forever,” Connie said excitedly. Armin and Marco nodded in agreement.

“It’s just so expensive,” I chuckled, “but I told my mom that we were going and she still gave me her debit card. Don’t worry about spending too much. I’ll buy us our pops and candy.” I tapped my jeans pocket, where my leather wallet resides. Inside was my mom’s gold SunTrust debit card.

            The guys thanked me as the bell rang, signaling us that lunch was over. Armin shot me a concerned looked. I shrugged at him and put on my backpack. I will have to deal with Mikasa for the next 48 minutes. I took a deep breath and said goodbye, and promised to meet them by Armin’s truck after school.

            I walked to my classroom slowly, praying to be late. Alas, I got on time. Mr. Pixis was the coach of the basketball team, so he was late because he was talking to his players. It was usually a relief, because he wouldn’t mark you late. Today it was frustrating. I was here. He’s a teacher; _he’s_ the one that should be early. As I approached the classroom, I noticed Mikasa leaning against the lockers, Jean standing obscenely close to her. His hand was on her waist, his thumb stroking her side, occasionally dipping down low, his thumb going underneath her shirt. She was smiling up at him and then she whispered something in his ear. Jean in return flushed cherry red and laughed. My fists curled into balls at my sides, my finger nails digging into my palms. My stomach flipped around like a washing machine with a full load of clothes. Something inside my snapped.

“Yo, Kirschtein!” I hollered, dropping my bag at my feet. “Care to share the joke, asshole?”

            Jean stepped back and looked at me in surprise. “Jaeger, stop acting so jealous. It’s not any of your business anymore.”

“You’re wrong!” I yelled. Students were looking our way now, some slowly pulling out their phones in case there was a fight.

            I charged at Jean, shoving him away from Mikasa. He stumbled back, but gained balance.

“I don’t want to fight you. You aren’t worth it. I have what I want!” He taunted with a grin. He removed his messenger backpack and handed it to Mikasa. “Just back off like a man.”

“You’re the one to talk about being a man!” I snapped. “You broke fucking guy code. You stole _my girl_!”

“She isn’t your girl, Jaeger. She’s been sucking my cock as long as she has been playing babysitter with you!”

            I drew back my arm and released, punching Jean in the jaw. His head jarred to the left, spit flying out of his mouth. He fell on his ass, holding his chin, grimacing. I quickly took advantage and kicked him hard in the side, forcing him to turn.

“Eren, stop!” Mikasa screamed.

            I ignored her, letting her voice become my fuel of anger. I kicked Jean again and he rolled to his side, his hand blocking my foot. He grabbed the toe of my shoe and twisted it sharply. I let out a small howl and tried to pull it back, to no success. I was dragged down and I put myself on top of Jean and grabbed his hair, holding him in place as I retracted my right arm to punch him again.

“Eren, I said stop!”

            Next thing I felt was a hand on my scalp, grabbing a handful of hair and hauling me up with much force I thought they were going to rip my hair out. I was flung backwards, landing hard on my back. I saw Mikasa standing over me.

“You fucking idiot.” She sneered, “You’re so immature. Jean isn’t the one to blame. I wanted him.”

            I stared at her in disbelief. “W-was what he said about you…y-you guys true?”

“Yes. But it’s not any of your business anymore. We’re done, Eren.”

            The crowd of kids standing around us ‘ooooh’ed and ‘daaaaaammnn’ed, as Mikasa swiftly turned on her heel and walked to help Jean up. He dusted himself off and thanked her, kissing her on the mouth, his tiny gerbil eyes staring at me the entire time. I flicked him off and stood, grabbing my bag and standing to the side.

“I’ll see you after class, babe.” Jean said, taking his backpack from Mikasa. “Can’t wait to fuck you after school.”

“Don’t be an ass, Jean.” She spat, “Go to class before you’re late.”

            I watched Jean leave, mentally killing him several times in my head.

“Hey, hey, hey! Who’s ready to learn about the skull today!?” A booming, raspy voice echoed down the hallway.

            A blink of an eye and the scene of a fight was gone. Kids were making their way to class or talking to their friends. Mikasa was twirling her hair in between her fingers. Mr. Pixis unlocked his classroom and held the door open as we piled inside.

“The skull is such an amazing bone! You’ll get to pretend to be Hamlet today when you hold onto these skulls. ‘Cept Hamlet didn’t point out the frontal bone or the zygomatic arch!” Mr. Pixis joked. “You’ll know what I’m talking about when we go through the list.” He explained, closing the door and making his way to the front of the room.

            He grabbed a skull and held it out in his hand. “’To be or not to be? That is the question!’” He quoted. “Did you kids know that the frontal bone of the skull was once two separate bones? Check out a baby’s skull and you’ll see! But there is not a trace of it on the adult skull but the coronial suture. Why? Anyone know?”

            Anatomy is an interesting subject. The human body is absolutely interesting, how it’s all like a giant puzzle piece. Each nook and cranny has its purpose. The smallest speck on a bone has a name. Anatomy used to be my favorite class. Now it’s my least.

            I stared at the clock, suddenly uninterested. I could feel Mikasa looking at me, though I didn’t give her the satisfaction of turning to look at her.

            After the bell rung for last period, I bolted out of the classroom like a bat out of hell. Unfortunately, Mikasa was faster.

“Eren, can we talk?” She inquired, slamming her hand on the wall, trapping me in. “You need to stop running away. I want to be friends still. I care about you a lot. It’s just I don’t want to be your girlfriend. I want to just be your sister and friend. I’m being mean so you just get the picture and move on already.”

“It’s only been a few days.” I whispered. I crossed my arms and looked down, feeling the sting of my left arm. “I don’t want to be just friends. I cannot live with that.”

“You’re going to have to learn,” she sighed. “Eren, just stop fighting with Jean, okay? You guys can actually be really good—”

“If you say ‘friends’, then you can kiss every being friends _with me_ goodbye.” I snarled. “Jean’s an asshole and he knows I hate him. That’s why he’s doing this; he’s just trying to piss me off.”

            Mikasa’s eyes narrowed. “ _What_? You think that Jean is just dating me to get back at you? Get off your high horse, Eren; Jean’s an amazing guy!”

“No, _you_ get off your high horse! Speaking of horses, you’re fucking dating one!” I barked, getting in her face. Mikasa always was stronger than me, but if she was going to talk about horses, she needed to be reminded about her choice in men.

“I’m so done with you.” Mikasa retorted simply. “I gotta go meet Jean anyway.”

“Fine then! Don’t forget your hay!” I shouted as she walked away. “Bitch.”

            I had hoped that yelling at her would have helped, but honestly, it made me sick to my stomach. I didn’t want to yell at her. We never argued when we were dating so this is all foreign to me. I was livid because she seemed so unfazed by this whole situation. She said she cared about me, but clearly if she did care, she would have _not_ been on her knees for horse-face, she would have _not_ left me over the phone while she was at Jean’s house.

            I made my way to my next class and kept my head down. None of the girls at my school were that cute, the more I thought about it. I mean, Christa was absolutely gorgeous, but she was gay and dating Ymir. Sasha was cute, but she ate more than me (well, more than anyone), and I’m sure she wasn’t really attracted to me unless I turned into a slice of pizza. Every girl I thought of just made me compare her to Mikasa, and every girl lost. I was in love with Mikasa, and I know that will never change.

            During class, I jotted down ideas on how to win Mikasa back. Her birthday was coming up, and Jean sucked at remembering things. I would buy her a marvelous gift and win her back. Jean wouldn’t get her anything and he’d look like a total dick. It was a good plan, but I don’t think my heart (and wrists) could wait that long. I could just talk to her, but I doubt she’d sit around long enough for me to get everything out. Mikasa never was one for feely, lovey-dovey shit, so me wearing my heart on my sleeve would horrify her. I could just leave a bunch of flowers in her room so when she came home, she would see them; though the fault in that is that she might think they’re from Jean. I sighed and scratched out that idea. This was going to be difficult.

            That night, after stuffing our faces with Grandpa Arlert’s stir-fry, Connie stinking up the bathroom and trying to convince us it was Marco, we were all piled in Armin’s pick-up. I was riding shotgun, Connie and Marco were in the back. Armin was driving. He was slow, but cautious. Armin never had a ticket, never been in a car accident. He’s the best driver, getting his permit at 14 and his license at 15. Now at 16 almost 17, Armin’s good driving habits, several “Safe Driving Bonus Checks” later, he was rewarded with his own car. Sure, it’s the shitty rusted pickup truck, but it was all Grandpa Arlert could afford. Armin adored this thing. He cleaned it weekly, even though it was usually my McDonald’s mess he was cleaning up. He drove everywhere, and refused gas money from both Mikasa and I. I think he just enjoyed being on the road. Armin loves to go places and travel, though he’s only lived in Trost. He has tons of posters in his room of Paris, L.A., New York, Florida, Greece and Japan. He has a world map taped to his ceiling above his bed, with thumb tacks shoved into the middle of every country he wants to visit. He shared his dreams with me often, and I was intrigued by his love of the world. I didn’t understand it, but it was cute to see him so excited about a 300 year old temple or something.

            Marco and Armin shared that love of travel. Marco traveled with his brothers and sisters, heading to Wall Maria and Wall Sina, seeing the castles every year and the annual trips to Disney World, of course. He told every detail to Armin and he listened like it was the most important thing in the world. I didn’t know Marco’s sexuality, but if I were to make any mental claims, it would be that Marco wants to get his own arm into Armin. Connie texted me while we were driving, telling me that if Armin and Marco were getting into their deep talks again, we’d ditch them so they can have their alone time. Of course I agreed, because Armin deserved to have someone in his life, and no matter if it was a boy or a girl, I’d support him.

“Holy shit,” I gasped as we pulled up the entrance. Garrison’s Arcade was packed, even for a Friday night. Motorcycles were lined up against the open sidewalk next to the building, and cars filled each spot. One car in particular caught my and Connie’s attention. A dark grey 2014 Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG with suicide doors. Connie was nearly pressed against the glass.

“Holy shit is right! Who’s car is that? What the hell are they doing here in Trost?! Is it Obama?” Connie joked.

“It is a cool car,” Marco agreed.

“’ _A cool car’_!” Connie mocked, “Marky boy, you have no idea! That’s a fucking _Mercedes-Benz_!” He shouted. Armin laughed and rolled his eyes. Armin and Marco didn’t know a thing about cars, even though they’re the travelers. They don’t care about the vehicle that takes them to those cool places, as long as they get there. To each their own, I guess.

            Armin ended up parking right next to it. Of course.

            We carefully got out of the truck, making sure the doors didn’t even come close to the beautiful, sleek shiny paint of the Mercedes. Whoever owned it had as much money as Oprah and we couldn’t even afford to look at it, much less get a tiny scratch on it.

“Now it’s time for Guys’ Night!” I cheered, slinging my arms around Armin and Marco’s shoulders. “Come on boys, first round of root beer is on me!”

            My mood could not possibly be crushed tonight.


	4. The Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A "FILF" is the male equivalent to a "MILF". MILF means "Mother I'd Like (to) Fuck". FILF is "Father I'd Like (to) Fuck". 
> 
> The more you know~ ☆
> 
> PS: You should listen to "Immortals" by Fall Out Boy while reading this chapter.

Garrison’s Arcade had lighting that was probably as bright as Hollister’s. Luckily, the games had bright lights that flashed like a club. There was the entry way where you transferred your money for tokens, and then next to that was the prize room. To the left was the giant room filled with a plethora of games, from Dance Dance Revolution to Wack-A-Mole to racing games, gambling games and basketball hoops, anyone could find something to entertain them. The next room was filled with darts and pool tables and in the center of the room was the circle bar. In the back of the pool table room was two thick velvet red doors that lead to an empty room that just had live music and tables for people to sit. The farthest room was an open area with the go-kart track and rock climbing set up.

“Where to first?” I asked, dividing the tokens evenly amongst us four. There was so much to do; we had no idea where to begin.

“We have the whole night,” Connie said, “so it doesn’t matter where we begin. We’ll be able to get to everything.”

            Music blared through the speakers on the roof, but it was hard to hear due to the sounds of the arcade and the cracking of pool balls colliding.

“We could each pick something to do. That way we all get to do what we want.” Armin suggested. “Eren, since this is your night, where do you wanna start?”

“Uhh,” I glanced around the room. I was badass at DDR, but there was a long line. The parking lot was nothing compared to the amount of people in here. “How about we just go crazy in the arcade? I really don’t care what we do.”

“I want to go play pool,” Connie stated, “but it’s all full. We could play in the arcade until a table gets open. Does that sound okay? It could be Eren and I versus Armin and Marco.”

            Armin flushed a light pink and Connie shot me a look. I beamed. “Sounds like a _great_ idea, Con.”

            I really didn’t see where the other three guys went, because my feet dragged me to the back of the Dance Dance Revolution line, but I could guess. Marco probably went to the driving games, Armin to the strategy games, and Connie to the shooting games. Jean always teased me for loving DDR. He said dancing was gay, even though Christa, Armin, and Ymir all agreed they sucked at dancing. Even if they were professional dancers, I still didn’t deem dancing a gay sport. Dancing itself requires tons of work. Dance Dance Revolution was just a game, but it made me break a sweat.

            The line dragged and finally it was my turn. A girl stood at the neighboring dance pad and she smiled bright. “Hi! Wanna play versus?”

“S-sure, yeah.” I stuttered, “What song do you want to do?” I queried, slipping my two tokens into the machine.

“Let’s see what we got, yes?” her manicured fingers scrolled through the touch screen. “I’m glad they updated this thing, to be honest. I got bored of the 80’s Top Hits.”

            I laughed, “Me too. Oh shit,” I gasped, reaching out to stop her hand. I quickly retracted my hand. “I’m sorry. I just saw a song—”

“Fall Out Boy? Really? I fucking _love_ Fall Out Boy.” She gushed, pressing the enter button, selecting ‘Immortals’.

            I straightened my back and spread my feet out. “Here we go.” I said, stealing a glance at the girl one last time. She was beautiful, with silky red hair and freckles that decorated her cheeks. Her skin was dotted porcelain. Her skirt was short, and with a simple twist of her hips it’d be a panty shot that any anime guy would keel over for.

“ _They say we are what we are, but we don’t have to be,_ ” the song began. I focused on the screen and began stomping my foot to the direction on the screen. _Left, left, right, front, left and right, back_ …

            I was enjoying the song and I felt free. I wasn’t angry at Mikasa, or even Jean. All I could focus on was the beat of the song, the line forming into a crowd as they clapped to the beat of the song. The redheaded girl dancing fluidly next to me, grabbing my hand and twisting on the dance pad. I laughed. This was fun. I was actually enjoying the presence of another girl that wasn't Mikasa.

_“We could be immortals, im-im-immortals.”_

Left, right, back, turn.

“Hey, you’re not bad at this!” The beauty next to be shouted over the music, grinning. She turned to stomp her foot on the right, her hips swinging.

“Thanks!” I shouted back. I spun and threw my hands up in the air. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, embracing the music, the fast rhythm making my blood pump. My legs had a mind of their own. I began to tune out the gorgeous person next to me and I remembered watching Big Hero 6 with Mikasa and Armin. Mikasa’s hand rested on my knee underneath the blanket. I could barely focus on the flick because every scene, her hand crept up, resting on my crotch. I pitied Armin because I’m sure he knew what was happening.

“ _Immmmoooorrrr-immortals…_ ”

The song was over and instead of feeling better, I felt worse.

“Wow, you’re great! That was so fun. Most guys just stomp their feet and try not to look dorky. You actually got into it, and I thought it was cute.” She said, stepping off the dance pad to let the other people go on. “What’s your name? I’m Hannah.”

“I’m…” My head began to spin. I was completely uninterested in the beautiful girl in front of me. I should be all over her, but the more I looked at her, the more I missed Mikasa. “I’m…I’m leaving…”

            Quickly leaving the arcade area to avoid the voices calling me a douchebag and the scoffs of all the other girls in the area, I made my way to the circle bar and sliding into an empty stool. The bar was shockingly empty, besides a few people scattered about.

“I’ll have a water, please,” I grumbled to the bartender. I was disappointed in myself for letting Mikasa spoil my night. I could see Armin and Marco playing skeeball, and Connie talking up a girl at the ‘Test Your Strength’ game. They were clearly having a great time, why couldn’t I? Mikasa was over it completely, hanging out with Jean. I was going to bring down everyone’s mood if I kept being a baby about this. A cold glass of water dripping with condensation was place in front of me. I tipped the bartender the two bucks I had crumpled in my pocket, and twirled the straw around, staring at the slice of lemon spin in the glass.

            I was emotionally drained and we were only here for about twenty minutes.

            If that wasn’t pathetic enough, I couldn’t even drink my sorrows away. I crossed my arms on the table and rested my head on my arms. I was feeling hopeless and stupid. I shouldn’t have dragged the guys out tonight because I knew I would end up like this. In the parking lot, I felt invincible, in here, my mood suddenly shifted because I got in contact with another girl, which is what I came here for. I was battling myself. This wasn’t something I could run away from. It gnawed at the back of my mind. The walls were closing in on me. The pang in my stomach never disappeared. Everywhere I looked there was always something to remind me of her.

“Eren, are you okay?” I heard Armin’s soft voice whisper and a crinkle of the old leather of the bar stool next to me. I felt a hand on my back.

“Everything reminds me of her.” I mumbled, my voice breaking.

“It’s okay,” Armin rubbed my back. “Connie wants to play pool anyway. We ran out of tokens. I got 60 tickets from that Skee-Ball machine. Connie won 10 and he’s pissed so don’t remind him.” He said with a chuckle.

“I don’t want to play pool.” _I don’t want to do anything._

“There are two free tables up. We could play in teams or we each can play one-on-one. I think you should try and distract yourself. Pool requires actual concentration.”

            I didn’t care if pool gave me a million dollars; I don’t want to move. I just want to go back home.

            _How did I end up playing pool?_ I had asked myself as I rolled the black triangular piece of plastic, watching the balls roll about loosely.

“Okay, so it’s me and Marco versus you and Eren.” Armin announced, tosses a blue chunk of chalk to Connie. “Eren, you can break.”

_Yippee._

            I sighed and walked to the edge, bending down to aim my pool stick at the cue ball. The stick rested in my right thumb, with my pointer finger curled around it. I took a deep breath and shot, the cue ball bouncing slightly before tumbling quickly and colliding with the rest of the balls with a _crack!_ The balls spread out, two going into a pocket. Connie shot this time, a striped ball inching slowly towards to pocket and then dropping in.

“We’re stripes! Marco and Armin, you’re solids.” Connie cheered, leaning down to take aim.

            We played the game. Armin was really good at pool, since it had to deal with angles and math. He showed off to Marco by sitting on the table and slinging the cue behind him as he aimed. I could barely hit the cue ball without making it bounce. Marco took the fall for Team Armin while he fortuitously struck in the 8 ball, thinking it was “a normal solid”. Armin was irritated for a brief moment, before sniggering and informing him that the 8 ball was to be hit last, always. Connie recommended another game, now with a much informed Marco. Armin stood behind him, his arms around Marco’s, helping him aim. Connie nudged my stomach with his elbow, grinning ear to ear. He made an inappropriate face, and then moaned loudly, “ _Ooh Marco! Ooh yes, harder,_ harder _! That’s it! Oh Marco!”_

            Both boys flushed red and rushed to get away from each other. Connie cackled at their reactions and I couldn’t help but smile. I was happy Armin was getting some action.

“Wanna play a game with us?” A deep voice asked from behind me. I spun around to see a super tall man, with blonde hair that was parted to the side. His eyebrows were thicker than Oprah’s wallet, and his arms were like The Rock’s. Even though this guy could clearly snap me in half like a twig, his blue eyes were pure and kind. He was wearing a plain white button up shirt tucked into blue jeans. Standing behind him was a guy with black hair that was shaved in an undercut. He sported a black t-shirt and grey skinny jeans tucked into black boots. He looked like he could murder someone with his slanted grey eyes and thin brows. He grimaced at us and I shifted my gaze back to the blonde; he seemed friendly.

“S-sure,” I stumbled, then shaking my head and turning to my friends. “Guys? Want a play a game?”

“Three against three.” He didn’t say it like a question. I was so intimidated by the guy, and downright afraid of the black haired one on the opposite side of the pool table behind us. “We play with bets, if you don’t mind.”

“Bets?” I yelped. “I-I only have debit?”

“Slide it in between the old man’s asscheeks.” The black haired countered, carefully adding chalk to the tip of his cue. Connie snorted and the blonde rolled his eyes.

“It’s fine. We’ll place bets a different way. Drinks, maybe?” He offered, nodding to the bar.

“Dear God, sir, we are _underage!_ ” Armin squawked, clearly baffled. Now I was the one embarrassed.

“We’ll take your virginities then.” The dark haired male remarked.

            I backed away and Armin reddened.

“We should go.” I stated firmly. I grabbed Armin’s arm and herded him out of the pool room. Connie and Marco trailed behind.

“He was joking!” The blonde’s deep voice bellowed. I continued to hastily make my way out of Garrison’s. I was upset at the whole Mikasa thing, and now I was afraid my closest friends and I were going to be assaulted by some creepy old dudes.

            We piled into the truck. I crossed my arms. “That was fucked up.” I grumbled, clicking my seatbelt.

“He was only kidding, Eren,” Armin replied, sticking the key in the ignition and twisting it forward until the car roared to life. “I don’t want to go home. It’s only 9pm.”

“We can drive around for a while.” Marco suggested, finally speaking for the first time. “I don’t want to go home either. To be honest, I want to go face those guys.”

“You’ll be facing the table with your ass in the air,” Connie snapped. “Eren was right to get us out of there. Those guys were creepers. Plus, the only thing that comes out of my asshole is poop. Sorry, Armin and Marco, but my butt is a sausage free zone. Same with Eren’s. I mean, you can drop Eren and I at my place and you two can come back and get butt-fucked by those FILFs, but count Eren and I out.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m just saying it was out of line. Clearly, their sense of humor is dissimilar from ours. We should respect people and their differences.”

            We rolled out of the parking lot and I watched Garrison’s dwindle into the distance. My arms were itching really badly, but I couldn’t scratch them because they’ll bleed through my shirt sleeves. I tried to keep my mind off my arms so I began twiddling with the radio. Armin got onto the highway heading northbound.

“So, changing the subject now, how many tickets did everyone get?” Marco questioned, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a rolled up stack of orange tickets. “I got a total of 103.”

“Fuck off. I got 10.” Connie murmured.

“68.” Armin chirped.

“None.” I growled, staring at the radio.

            We drove in silence.

            We rolled the windows down and enjoyed the cool evening air. Music was blaring through the speakers, and Connie was singing obnoxiously to Katy Perry’s ‘Firework’. I was lost in my thoughts, thinking of tonight, and the redheaded girl. What was her name? Harriet? Hope? Hannah? _Hannah._ She was cute and she seemed nice. We liked the same music and she clearly liked to dance. I completely acted like a douchebag and ran away like a coward. I was mad at Mikasa for making me feel this way, for invading my mind and making me turn away from a potential date. I wondered how long this feeling lasted.

“ _Holy Toledo!”_ Connie boomed. Slamming his palm against the window, he announced: “Look who it is!”

            The grey Mercedes-Benz was right next to us.


	5. The Accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LOL OOPS i have not updated this in a while im sorry. This chapter is super short too. Agh, ill write more soon i swear.

Connie _ooh_ ed and _ahh_ ed at the Mercedes. I myself was fascinated at it, but I was also extremely curious as to who the hell was driving that thing. I expressed it to the guys, and needless to say I wish I kept it a mental question.

“Oprah!”

“It’d be awesome if it was like, Tom Cruise or something.”

“Maybe it’s J.K. Rowling!”

            I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. I loved my friends, don’t get me wrong, but their actual logic sometimes was so irrational. The chance of a celebrity in Trost, especially in this part of Trost, was slimmer than an anorexic runway model. I demanded Armin to speed up so I could get a glance at the driver. The Mercedes was going really fast and swerving through the lanes like an idiot. If there were any cops around, they would’ve been arrested by now. I was getting frustrated after several minutes of playing chase.

            The Mercedes swerved into the exit for Ehrmich, which was at the edge of Wall Rose and closer to Wall Sina, meaning these guys had money, though that wasn’t a surprise.

“Follow them!” I shouted, grabbing the steering wheel, making Armin scream.

“Eren, let go! You’re going to make us crash!” He jarred the steering wheel to make it straight again. “We’ll go, just calm down.” He said breathlessly. “I don’t want to get into an accident. I need that Safe Driver’s Bonus Check to pay for that new encyclopedia about the ocean!”

            He turned carefully into the exit, leaving us right behind the Mercedes.

“Get in the next lane! I can’t see the driver!” I demanded, reaching for the wheel again in desperation. Armin smacked my hand and I reluctantly pulled it back. I grumbled under my breath about how this truck will look inEhrmich, but Armin disregarded me. I sat upright and rolled down the window. I wanted to know who could be in Trost with that type of car. Was it really a celeb? An athlete? Maybe someone who was famous but someone we didn’t recognize at Garrison’s? I didn’t notice any particular crowd and I didn’t hear any hubbub about a VIP guest. I was left guessing.

            My mind wound up to Jean being the driver. Completely illogical. Downright stupid. But my mind wandered to that part and I was seething with rage. Maybe Mrs. Kirschtein wanted to get her precious Jeany-Boy a special car for prom. It was probably a rental car so Jean could woo Mikasa. I can imagine them drinking champagne in the back as a professional fancy driver brought them to some snobby restaurant in Ehrmich.

“Speed up, dammit!” I shrieked. “I gotta know who’s in that fucking car!”

            My arm was beginning to itch again so I gripped it tight. My eyes were watering in bubbling indignation. _Stupid Mikasa. Stupid Jean. Stupid Mercedes-Benz. Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

            We advanced to a stoplight. Armin pulled into the next lane, giving me the advantage of seeing the driver.

            I looked out of the window to see those two creeps from Garrison’s. The black haired guy that wanted our virginities was driving. The blonde was in the passenger seat. They were blaring some weird rock music. I noticed the interior of the car; striking black leather seats with a badass radio system. The lights inside were a bright bloody red. The car was fucking perfect. I gasped when I saw the black hair man staring at me.

“Don’t fucking look at me you ugly creeper.” I snapped to myself, turning away.

“Then stop staring at me,” A deep voice cracked. I turned my head to see the guy _looking at me._ Fuck, he had his windows down as well so he heard me call him a creeper _. This was so embarrassing!_

            I flushed bright red and I stuttered: “Oh shit, you heard me.”

“Talk shit, get hit!” Connie exclaimed, laughing hysterically in the back seat.

            I was mortified. I always had the worst road rage, but none of the people actually heard me talking about them. Now I got to deal with this rich old guy in his fancy-schmancy car.

“I’m not deaf, brat. Of course I fucking heard you. I’m surprised you heard _me_ , with that loud piece of shit truck you have.”

“Hey!” Armin defended.

“We’ll race you and beat your ‘extravagant’ car! Light goes green; we’ll race to the next one!” Connie bargained, nearly hanging out of the back window. “Winner gets the other’s car!”

“Connie, no!” Armin screeched, “We have no chance! This truck is older than my grandpa!”

“Are you just going to let this old fart talk shit about ol’ Bess?!”

“Yes, as long as I get to keep her! We can’t challenge other people, and you sure as hell can’t bet my car!” Armin was noticeably shaking. I felt a pang of sadness for him and I placed my hand over his.

“Relax, Armin. We won’t race.” I said reassuringly. I looked at the two guys. “Hey, listen shortie, but we ain’t racing.”

“Pussy” was all he said to send me into rage.

“YOU WANNA GO ASSHOLE?!”

            The light turned green.

            I slid over next to Armin and slammed my foot on the gas pedal. Ol’ Bess launched forward, making our seatbelts lock, choking me out. Luckily, Armin’s front seat was like a bench; it had no armrests or compartment. It made both Mikasa and I fit into the front seat so none of us had to be left out when Armin and us went out.

            I ignored the pain in my chest and unclicked my seatbelt.

“Switch spots, Armin!”

“No!”

“Armin!”

“Eren, _no_!”

“Then drive before we lose Bess!”

            Armin slammed on the gas and we all flew back against our seats. The truck was old but it sped up. We were still behind the Mercedes, though. The car was _fast_.

“Go, Armin!” Marco hollered, his face full of worry.

            I glared at the other driver, poking my head out of the window. My heart was racing in my chest as the wind flew through my hair. We didn’t have a chance in hell to win. An old, rusty Chevy versus a brand-new Mercedes. Yeah, right. We were toast. I wondered if those two guys were actually going to take ol’ Bess. Armin loved his truck, and it was named after his late grandmother. She loved travelling as much as Armin did, so he always said she was travelling with him all the time. It was such an innocent thought, that it made me feel like a total asshole for betting it.

            As Ol’ Bess picked up to 95 miles per hour, a scream erupted from my throat at the following occurrence.

            The Mercedes slammed on their brakes.

            Armin followed suit, twisting the steering wheel.

            A crash.

            Armin’s arm thrown across my chest, pushing me back into the seat as physics pulled me forward, thanks to the lack of a seatbelt.

            “ _Eren, no!”_

_  
_

I opened my eyes. My first instinct was to look at Armin.

            The airbag did not go off, thanks to the truck being an older model, so it probably didn’t have one to begin with. His blonde hair was tossed like Sia’s cheap blonde wigs, and his nose was bleeding profusely. He locked gazes with me and smiled half-heartedly.

“Eren, you’re okay.” His voice was broken.

“Are you?” I demanded, adjusting myself in the truck. “Are you guys?” I shouted, turning my head to the back, where Connie and Marco were sitting there with flushed faces and tears in their eyes.

“We’re good. We just…we’re shaken.” Marco whispered faintly, putting his hand on Connie’s leg.

“Why the fuck did you stop?!” Connie cracked, his voice harsh and angry. “Eren almost flew out the fucking windshield!”

“But I didn’t!” I defended. “Oh fuck, what did we crash into—?”

“—Are you kids okay?” The deep voice man interrupted, coming towards my window, which was shattered. He tried to open the door, but it was jammed shut.

“We’re okay.” Armin said calmly, wiping his nose. “I hit my head on the steering wheel, and Eren—”

“Almost flew out the fucking windshield but Armin’s mother hen instincts saved him.” Connie snapped, making Marco sigh.

“Help us get out.” He said.

            After a few moments of cutting off seatbelts and being lifted from my open window by the tall, muscular man with big bushy brows like it was nothing, we were standing on the road, where Armin’s truck looked like a crushed tin can against the broken fender of the Mercedes.

            Realization smacked me across the face. We crashed into the Mercedes—a $150,000 dollar car. There is no way any of us could pay for it, even if we got jobs.

“Is the short guy okay?” Armin asked. He looked like a five year old next to the man.

“I’m fucking peachy. My $201,500 dollar Mercedes was just in an accident with a piece of rust.”

“Levi.” The man barked, staring down at him. “Be nice.”

            The short angry man, Levi, sighed and ran his hand through his black hair, which was cut in an undercut. His eyebrows were super thin and furrowed as his seemingly ever-present grimace was on his face. “I’m _so_ sorry,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Are you all alright?”

“Yeah.” Armin responded, offering a kind smile. The kid was too pure for this cruel world.

“Great.”

            Levi took a step forward and punched him.


	6. The Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Innuendos are gr8 with a blushing Eren

             A whole bunch of screaming ensued. I couldn’t even comprehend what occurred. I jumped at Levi, trying to tackle him, but then I felt a sharp pain in my temple and saw Levi’s leg rise in the air partly, curved at an angle. I have been kicked.

            “Do not fucking touch me.” Levi said coolly. “My car is wrecked. My boot is scuffed. I am pissed off. Now, Coconut Head needs to give me his insurance information.”

            “In-insurance?” Armin squawked, “oh please, no! I don’t want to ruin my perfect record!”

            Armin was always perfect. Perfect attendance in school from the moment he stepped through the doors of Saint Sina’s Elementary School as a four-year-old toddler stumbling into Pre-K with his Reading Rainbow lunchbox in tow. His driving record was completely clean until about five minutes ago, basically. No accidents, no tickets, not even pulled over by a cop. Perfectly clean record. Of course he’s hesitant to hand over his insurance info like a Subway Rewards card.

            “You should’ve considered that before you decided to speed,” Erwin solemnly replied. “Levi’s car is expensive, and yours—well—yours should’ve been scrapped years ago. We have places to be, and I’m sure you kids have school to go to. Please make this easier on us.”

            “Unless you wish to pay us another way.” Levi offered, cocking his eyebrow slightly, tilting his head to gaze me up and down. I shivered.

            “Hand over the card.” I snapped, shoving Armin’s shoulder. “I want to go home.”

            “What are you offering?” Armin asked, ignoring me. His head was tilted a tad to the left, part of his blonde hair sliding into his face. I was freaking out. I was uncomfortable with this guy from minute one. He made remarks about virginity at Garrison’s, so it’s evident on what he’s offering. I tugged on Armin’s sleeve.

            “I’ll help you explain to Grandpa Arlert what happened. Please don’t do anything stupid.” I hissed.

            My heart was thumping in my chest. My sense of fight or flight was kicking me in the ass and saying “run”. Marco and Connie were backing away from Captain America-looking mother fucker, and heading towards Armin’s dented pickup. The front end was smooshed, but it was still drivable. Grandpa Arlert may be in his 70’s but that guy had eyes like a hawk, but we could always just leave it parked at my house. I sighed and ran my hand through my hair. I couldn’t do anything but stand here. It was irritating that Armin was ignoring me; his big blue eyes were fixed on Levi. This was a business deal, after all.

            Mikasa would know what to do. She would’ve talked to Armin about taking the high road, about being honest, being a responsible adult and just handing over the damn insurance information. She would’ve convinced him that Grandpa Arlert would understand that accidents do happen. She would’ve murdered Levi for punching Armin and kicking me. Mikasa was the responsible one. Mikasa was the smart one, the pretty one, the adult in our group. She handled things with an icy cool touch, said things so smoothly without stuttering; she slayed bitches in school whenever one tried to humiliate her. In fact, she was so smooth and sexy, she could’ve seduced Levi.

            A sharp pain on my left wrist reminded me that _she’s_ the reason we were in this mess. If Mikasa was here, we wouldn’t be standing off of the highway, exchanging words from a weightlifting guy and twink with like, no eyebrows. This was Boys’ Night, and Mikasa is why I’m out. If Mikasa didn’t decided to go with a horse, we could’ve been snuggling on the couch and watching Mikasa’s favorite show, _Orange Is The New Black_.

            My arm itched, so I scratched it. I felt the scabs ripping my skin open, and I know the blood will probably show through my sleeve, but I don’t care right now. Levi’s grey eyes flickered towards me and I stopped scratching. I crossed my arms across my chest and stepped back next to Connie.

            Levi turned his gaze back to Armin and smiled oh-so-slightly, I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it or not. “I would like to make an offer, Coconut.”

            “Okay, what is it?” Armin inquired, his voice shaky. Maybe he was regretting this night like I was.

            “You know that saying ‘When in Rome, do as the Romans do’?” Levi paused, looking at our faces. Judging by his expression, he was disappointed. “Anyway, instead of the insurance companies finding out about our little accident, why don’t you four work for Erwin and I to pay off the damages? I’ll have both cars fixed at utter discrepancy.”

            “Wh-what type of work?” Marco spoke for the first time.

            “I’m a business man—of sorts. What are you boys willing to do?”

            We all went quiet.

            What the fuck is he talking about? What am I willing to do? What could I offer? My _body_? I glanced at Erwin, who had stranded away to talk on the phone. He had a body. He was a fucking _beast_. Not only was he tall and good looking, but he was muscular, with arms as big as his eyebrows. His biceps stretched the fabric of his shirt. I’m sure if you lifted his shirt, his abs could be used as washboards like in the 1930’s. His thighs were bulged and look like they could suffocate you if you were to put you head between them while sucking him off.

_What the fuck?!_

            Did I just think that?

            I shook my head as if to shake those gay thoughts away. Why would I suck off Erwin? He’s fucking old, and I’m not gay.

            _That’s what every closeted homo thinks._ My conscience reminded me.

            I shuddered and tried to think about boobs.

            “Eren.” A voice said sternly. I looked up, focusing on Levi’s face near mine. I jumped and let out a surprised grunt, taking a step back. He was short, but damn, he walked and talked as if he were 50 feet tall.

            “Yes?” I answered.

            “What are you good at?”

            _What am I good at?_

            “Nothing.” I blurted out, then covered my mouth with my palm. I felt my face heat up. It’s embarrassing, but I wasn’t lying.

            What am I good at? Sulking in my room? Crying? Jerking off to free pixelated porn on the internet? I do not have any set of skills that would be deemed valuable to any business, especially whatever business Levi runs. I am not only lazy, but I’m highly unmotivated and I don’t really like to do anything. If it involved computers, I’d probably end up playing games and fucking around. If it involved driving around delivering stuff—I’d make pit stops at every fast food location. Math? English? History? More like, _no._ I was so bad at school and sports. I really didn’t fit in anywhere. I don’t know how I have friends, because my vocabulary is mostly grunts and curse words. I’m sure if I was given an oral exam, I’d fail.

            The word “oral” clung to my mouth. I could taste it on my tongue. It felt foreign, and my mind immediately pictured me in between Erwin’s massive thighs. It was a weird word, two syllables. It even forms a tiny ‘o’ with your mouth, like you were sucking a dick.

            “Oral,” I mumbled, the word sliding from my lips perfectly, as if it were a holy word, a whisper, a sweet nothing.

            “Oral?” Levi repeated brashly. His eyebrows shot up in shock.

            Fuck.

            “N-no, I didn’t mean—” I waved my hands, trying to terminate the idea I just spoke of a sex act in public. I felt everyone’s stare and my face felt hot.

            “I don’t need that kind of service for my business.” Levi dismissed me with a flick of the wrist. He walked to Armin. “You can be my assistant. You don’t seem as dumb as the others. Freckles,” he pointed to Marco, “you seem nice. You’ll be working with the customer service. Avatar,” he nodded to Connie, “you…you can work with Erwin. And Eren,” his eyes met mine. I held my breath. “You can be on the janitorial crew.” He finished flatly.

            “Erwin will give you the email address in which to email him all your information. I expect your full names, birthdays, social security numbers, and yes,” he glared at Armin, “your insurance information. Among other sorts.”

            He sighed and signaled Erwin over. Erwin smiled and made his way to Levi’s side, hanging up the phone. He slung his arm around Levi’s shoulders and tilted his head, giving us a warm smile. “I will have a car pick you four up from school every day. You will work six days a week, with Sundays off.”

            “You religious?” Connie snorted.

            “I praise my boyfriend’s ass on Sundays.” Erwin said with a straight face. Connie flushed and turned away.

            “More like ‘ _pound_ ’.” Levi retorted.

            My eyes widened. What the… _wait._ Erwin and Levi are together? Like, more than business partners? Levi is…gay? And he is dating some giant? How does…?

            I shook my head, wondering why I cared.

            “What if we have stuff going on?” I snapped. “I have a life, you know. Six days a week? I don’t think so.”

            I don’t like working. I hate putting effort into things. After school, I like to go home and sleep. Maybe shake it once or twice (three times means you’re playing with yourself, and I am _not_ playing with myself), and maybe do the hobby of carving my arms that I recently picked up. I didn’t want to devote every day to school and then work. I don’t have that kind of energy, and I don’t have that much motivation. Just the thought of it exhausted me.

            When I looked at Levi, he was already in his busted Mercedes, passenger side of course, and driving away.

            “He seemed nice.” Armin said. Marco, Connie and I shot him death glares.

            I’m not even working yet and I am already tired.


	7. The Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I squealed a lot while writing this because I fell in love with Armin. I'm like 600% sure y'all know what's coming lolol

            We remained in Armin’s truck on the side of the highway. None of us spoke. What was there to say? We got in an accident. I had a nasty bruise to show for it. There’s one on my forehead from hitting the windshield, and a goose egg on my temple from Levi’s boot. Armin had a busted lip that had stopped bleeding and dried blood under his nose. Of course, he had the hideous black eye that had swollen shut from Levi. Luckily, Connie and Marco were unscathed from the whole incident. They didn’t utter a word, so the damage must be mental. It was actually surprising that Connie has been quiet for this long; I think the gay sex joke provided by Erwin shut him up pretty good.

            I had to process this whole encounter with Levi. We challenged to race a sports car while we were in a beat-up Chevy. We crashed, resulting in the Mercedes’ driver side door and fender to be crushed and Armin’s passenger side completely crumpled. Now, thanks to this, we all will have to work under Levi and Erwin to pay off the damages to both cars, all because Armin wanted his $100 dollar Safe Driver Bonus Check and a clean record.

            We don’t know what kind of company this is. We just know that Armin will be Levi’s assistant—to what, I don’t know—and Connie will be under Erwin’s control. Erwin seemed less scary than Levi, but I feel that if he gets pissed enough, he’s a monster. Marco will have to deal with whatever type of customers they get—which could be absolutely horrifying—and I get to clean up after everyone. The thought alone scares me because I could be cleaning up dead bodies or dumping drugs in the river. Armin signed us up for this, so I hope he knows what he’s getting us all into.

            I shifted my gaze to him and broke the silence; I guess everyone else was reviewing tonight’s events, too. I wondered what everyone else was thinking about. Our days were numbered. We were slaves six days a week, with only Sunday to pray that Monday will never come. How long were we going to work? Six days, sure, but for how _long_? It could take _years_ to pay off the repairs for both cars.

            “So,” I began, clearing my throat, “we got work Monday.”

            “Yeah.”

            “Yep.”

            “Hm-mm.”

            So much for conversation.

            Armin suddenly clutched the steering wheel, closing his eyes tight. “I’m really sorry, guys. I…I didn’t know what else to do. I really needed to keep my insurance from rising. I can barely afford it now, and if it even goes up a fucking _cent_ , I don’t know how I can pay for it. Grandpa insists on me having a way to get to school. Education is so important to me because it’ll get me out of here.” Armin explained gravely. “N-not that I don’t love you guys or Grandpa, but…” His voice broke, “We’re living off of Grandpa’s disability checks. Nana didn’t leave us much from her life insurance. The bonus checks from Allstate go into my college fund. After I get a degree and a great job, I’ll be able to help Grandpa.” He kept his head down; his hands squeezed the wheel so firm that his knuckles were white.

            Connie and Marco just looked out the window, silent. I slid over and wrapped my arms around Armin. I whispered, “It’ll be okay.”

            I didn’t know what else to say. Us three couldn’t help him, but we could be there to reassure him. Armin was always there for everyone—even strangers.

            His long blonde locks framed his kind blue eyes, making him look innocent. His small frame wasn’t threatening; in fact, it made him look like a person who you could call home. He had the kind of body that you want to hold close. His body was familiar, one that was synonymous with safety and love. His voice was soft and constantly spoke compassion and purity. His voice was a poem, his words poetry. Armin didn’t have a bad bone in him. He did nothing to deserve the life he was given. He deserved the world, and I was willing to fight—to kill—just to give Armin it. And if I couldn’t do that, I’d give him my world, as shitty as it was.

            I held Armin as he cried. I felt his tears on my shirt. My right hand was on his back, the other cradled his head, my fingers entwining in his hair. My cheek rested on top of his head. Armin’s arms were around my waist, his left hand gripping my shirt so tight; I know the fabric would be stretched.

            “We love you, Armin,” Marco said softly.

            Connie, still silent, leaned over the seat and put a hand on Armin’s shoulder. I looked at him and noticed, to my surprise, that his eyes were glistening with tears.

            “Let’s work our asses off,” he murmured, his voice cracking.

            Armin lifted his head—not letting me go—and faced Connie. “You’re _crying_?” He asked.

            “No! No. I just…” Connie sniffled. “I hate seeing my bro upset. Out of all of us, you’re the most likely to do something with your life. We’ll help you on your way up to the top.” He turned away, wiping his eyes with the back of his palm.

            I didn’t argue with him. He was right; Armin was brilliant. Sure, financially, he was unable to go places. Some days, especially when we were kids, he’d have to come over with Grandpa Arlert to get something to eat because the money went to bills that month, instead of groceries. All Armin had was his smarts and his dreams. He didn’t need to travel; he had his books and Marco’s stories, plus his Nana’s photo books she left behind. He loved to learn and with his grades, he could go to any college. Ivy League universities will be banging down the door when the SAT scores come in.

            Armin shifted in my arms and then retracted himself from my grip. “I’ll be okay. Besides, how bad could this all be? We’re all going to be working together.”

            No one brought up that we all were going to be in different sectors. We could not possibly knock over that boy’s half-full cup of optimism.

            We dropped Connie and Marco off at their houses. On the way to my place, I felt the urge to talk to Armin about everything. I wanted to spill my guts. He was my best friend, and he knows that Mikasa and I broke up, but he didn’t know how I was handling it. I also had many questions about why I thought strange things when I saw Erwin. I needed Armin’s advice. I missed talking one-on-one with him.

            Before Mikasa and I dated, Armin and I used to go on long drives, sometimes we had a destination in mind, and other times we didn’t. From time to time, we just drove in circles around the block, or we parked in an empty lot and sat on the hood of the car.

            When Armin pulled into my driveway, I noticed there were more cars than usual. My mom and dad had their own cars, and Mikasa had her red scooter. But tonight there was one more car, a silver Honda. I was about to express my concern of the car to Armin when he said: “Eren, I really want to thank you for tonight. It was fun, despite the mess we were now into.”

            I pushed the car out of my mind to smile at him. “It was fun. I felt like a teenager for the first time in a long time.” I shifted in my seat. “Hey, Arm, can I talk to you about like, serious stuff?”

            “Of course.”

            “Okay, please don’t judge me at all, but I really wanted to tell you everything that’s been going on this week. I just don’t want you to talk before I’m finished. I don’t want to miss anything, okay?”

            “Okay. What’s wrong, Eren?”

            “Okay.” I took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

            Armin was my best friend. Why am I shaking? Why am I scared?

            “When Mikasa broke up with me, I was angry.” I began. “I was so angry, I think I blacked out. I went to the bathroom and I was messing with my arm. When I skipped school that day—”

            “I knew you left early!” Armin exclaimed. I frowned at him, in which he replied with a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Continue.”

            “I went home and I got a text message from her. I was really, really upset. And I took the razor I use for shaving my face, and I cut my arms. Mostly my left arm. They weren’t deep when I first did it, but now it’s ugly and I’m scared. Armin, I know that this isn’t a good habit. I know that I could accidentally cut too deep, and I could bleed out. I got even angrier when I thought about how I was cutting and nobody noticed, not even you. I was dying on the inside and no one detected it. I thought nobody cared and so I cut more. I bandaged the cuts and cleaned them, but they itch.” I touched my arm. “I don’t know how to stop. I wanted to let you know so you could maybe help me without calling the loony bin.”

            Armin didn’t say a word for a long time. I was worried that I scared him or made him think I was crazy. After an extensive pause, he whispered, “Let me see.”

            I gulped and shook my head. “Not now, Armin.” I didn’t want to show him. I didn’t want him to see how bludgeoned my arm has become. Hopefully he would understand that I will show him one day, just not now.

            He did.

            “All I can say is,” Armin took my hands.

            “I love you, Eren. I know that I tell you that all the time. I know it probably doesn’t mean anything at all. I know that the only ‘I love you’ you want to hear is from Mikasa. That won’t ever happen again, Eren. I’m sorry. Mikasa has a way with moving around and shutting herself off from people. Once she’s done with someone, she’s done. There are many ways to cope with what you’re going through, and yeah, cutting yourself is one way. I am not going to sit here and tell you to stop, because you can stop when you want to. No one can force you to do anything, feel anything. You have to do everything yourself, but you don’t have to be alone.

            Is Mikasa a bitch for what she did? Heck yes. Is she a bad person? Probably. But she is gone now, Eren. She isn’t coming back. You need to get rid of the false hope. You shouldn’t hate her; you should just forget her. She can’t control your life anymore. You are Eren. You aren’t Eren and Mikasa. You only have to live for yourself. You put her first, I noticed. You need to stop putting everyone first, even me, and think about yourself. Take care of yourself. Do things you like doing. Eren, I want you to stop cutting, but you have to want it yourself. Do you want to stop cutting?” He asked, raising a blonde brow. I nodded solemnly. He continued.

            “Then we can work things out together. I think self-harm is a way to translate emotional pain to physical pain. You need something to numb the emotional pain. Until you find something you can stick with, a hobby, a method for distraction, anything—I will help distract you. I’m a phone call away. I’m down the street. I’ll always be avalible if you need me. Don’t be ashamed or embarrassed. Don’t beat yourself up over cutting. I won’t punish you further, because you know what you did. I’ll be disappointed, but I won’t be angry.” He smiled. “Sound like a plan?”

            “You got it.” I returned the grin and looked down. “Also, I have another question.”

            “Go for it.”

            “When…When we were talking to Erwin and Levi at the highway,” my voice was shaking. My heart sped up and my palms twitched in Armin’s hands. “I had some…” I paused, my eyes watering. Why was I crying over this? Why didn’t I cry over cutting?

            “Eren,” Armin tilted his head to the side. “What is it? You had some what?”

            “Some dirty thoughts.”

            “About?”

            “ _I thought about sucking Erwin’s dick!_ ” I burst, tears falling down my face. “I had homo thoughts about that gross old man!”

            Armin went quiet again. Then, he laughed. My eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. Why the fuck was he laughing at me?

            “You had _homo thoughts_?” Armin repeated in between laughs. “Oh my God, that’s it?”

            “‘That’s it?’ _That’s it!?_ ” I squawked, “That’s enough!”

            “Cheese and crackers, Eren, it’s okay!” Armin giggled. “You’re just dealing with some emotional stuff. You’re questioning yourself since Mikasa broke up with you. It’s normal to look for more options.”

            “I am not gay, Armin!” I hollered.

            “You could be bisexual.” He replied with a shrug.

            “What is that?”

            “It’s when you find both men and women sexually attractive.”

            “Oh like gay and straight? Instead of being just gay or just straight, you like both?” I quizzed.

            “No. Bisexual is its own sexuality.” Armin clarified. “Like, for example, there’s a vanilla ice cream and a chocolate ice cream. Chocolate symbolizes homosexuality, while the vanilla represents heterosexuality,”

            “I think vanilla would be the gay one.” I interjected, earning a glare from Armin.

            “When you mix vanilla and chocolate, it is not bisexual. Strawberry is bisexual.”

            “Aww, good for Strawberry!” I joked.

            “Eren, please be serious for a second.”

            “I am being serious. I think you could be right.” I agreed.

            I unclicked my seatbelt, gliding over to Armin again. I placed my hand against his cheek and titled my head to the left. My eyes fluttered closed as I pressed my lips against Armin’s. He gasped, and I tugged him closer. His mouth was warm and dry. His bottom lip was swollen from the accident, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t enjoying what I was doing. Did I know what I was doing? Fuck no. Did my body know? Hell yes. I felt like my body switched into autopilot, my lips forcefully parting Armin’s, my tongue sliding inside. I felt his tongue against mine—he was returning the kiss. His tongue slowly curved around mine, traveling up and down slowly. I felt his hands—those tiny, tiny hands—press against my thighs. He leaned forward and I automatically shifted my body sideways, parting my legs. Armin accepted the invitation, fitting himself in between me like a puzzle piece. He propped himself up on the seat, my leg in between both of his. His knee pressed against my crotch, causing me to stifle a moan.

            _A moan_? What the fuck?

            I reached up and tugged on Armin’s hair, tilting my head upwards to get a better angle.

            The kiss was sloppy, desperate, hot. I felt so turned on, and it confused me. This was so gross, so wrong. I wasn’t gay. I slept with Mikasa, I watched straight porn. I dreamt about boobs and vagina. I never once considered how Armin’s petite body allowed me to manhandle him easily. I never desired to have his lips pressed against mine.

            I bit his lip, hard. I felt the bruise burst and Armin whimper. I pulled away from him.

            “Armin?” I whispered, his face so close to mine. I have never been so close to another man before.

            “What the frick?” He gasped, licking his bloody lip. “Eren?”

            “Dude, I am so gay right now.” I cursed under my breath. Armin’s small body shook with laughter in my hands.

            “Your boner shows it.” Armin replied with a blush. He removed himself from my lap and returned to the driver’s seat. He clicked his seatbelt and faced forward. “You better get inside. I’ll see you at school Monday.”

            “Yeah.” I said, dazed. I touched my lips. “Goodnight, Armin.”

            “Goodnight, Eren.” He was not looking at me.

            “Goodnight, Armin.”

            “You said that. Get out of my truck, pretty please.” He snickered.

            “Yeah, duh. Wow.” I laughed awkwardly, and opened the truck door. “Bye.”

            “Just go, Eren.”

            I walked inside, my hand covering my oh-so-obvious boner.

            Tonight was weird.


	8. The Strawberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jealousy is not pretty. (Trigger warning)

            I headed straight to my bedroom, not bothering to tell my mom that I was home. My head was spinning and I felt dirty. I feel as if my mother saw me, she would know that Armin and I kissed. I know that’s completely illogical. I used to get this anxiety when I first started dating Mikasa. I’d think “everyone can see that I’m no longer a virgin” or “they all can tell I’ve been kissing someone”. Though, I’m partly right. I looked in my bathroom mirror and stared at my reflection.

            My face was flushed; this time it wasn’t from crying. I had a glow to my face. For some reason, I kept catching myself smiling.

            Bisexual.

            I was the strawberry ice cream. I just made out with my best friend, someone who I grew up with. I’ve seen Armin grow and handle all the changes that life has thrown at him like a homework assignment. But most importantly, Armin was a _man_ —using that term loosely because, I mean, it’s _Armin_. A man would be someone like Erwin—tall, successful, handsome, muscular—someone who could take control of a situation. He was put-together with that button-up shirt and that friendly grin. Levi was lucky.

            Though, Levi was as much as a man as Erwin. Levi wasn’t tall or muscular. He was handsome and successful. He wasn’t friendly or kind, but for some odd reason, that just added to his attractiveness. I guess that means Armin could be a man. Armin is short and handsome like Levi.

            I found myself laying on my bed, with my leftover homosexual boner. I really needed to stop thinking about guys; this is just _embarrassing_. I had to really be bisexual if Armin—fucking _Armin_ —gave me the biggest hard-on I’ve ever had and that was only from a _kiss_.

            I turned on my TV and slowly slid my hand in my pants. I didn’t think of much. I never do when I’m touching myself; I just watch the colors on the screen. I didn’t even know what was playing—probably something on Cartoon Network.

            I began to stroke the base of my cock. I glanced at the door, realizing it was unlocked. I didn’t feel like getting up and locking it. In fact, I wasn’t even horny—I just wanted this boner gone. I shifted my body, propping my hips up so I can tug my jeans off. My boxers followed suit. My dick was fully hard, like a fucking _rock_. Once free of its confinement, it stood tall and proud, pressing itself against my stomach, just below my belly button.

            I grasped it firmly with my right hand and closed my eyes. I leisurely rubbed it, while letting my mind wander.

            _I grabbed Armin’s blonde locks and slammed his petite body against my bed. The door remained unlocked because I wanted it to be. I_ wanted _someone to walk in and see how Armin’s face was buried in my pillow. I want them to see how his breathing was rapid, his dick, small but perfect, was hard and had cum dripping onto my sheets. His ass was tight, so I had to go slow, but not slow enough that I heard his breathing hitch and a moan release. I thrusted in and out of him, one hand on his tiny back, the other gripping his ass._

            I knew this was not what I should be doing. I pumped my hand quickly, moving my thumb in small circles against the tip. I felt sticky. I knew I shouldn’t be getting off on this daydream, but fuck, it felt so good. I quickened my pace, biting my lip. I closed my eyes again.

            “ _Fuck me, please,” I begged. I was on my knees._

_“So eager.” Erwin retorted with a smirk. He grabbed my chin and forced me to avert my eyes from his huge cock. “Since you wanted to smash my boyfriend’s car, you’re going to have to be punished.”_

_I suppressed a whimper. I hated to be teased. I saw what I wanted, now I just had to get it._

_“Please.”_

_“Please what?” Erwin asked, running a hand through my hair. He pulled, hard. I winced, but I didn’t mind if he did it again. Pain was pleasure._

_“Please, sir. Let me suck your cock.” I felt my body lean into him. My mouth gradually opening in that slight ‘o’ shape. The word ‘oral’ came to mind again. I moaned softly, mostly out of sexual frustration._

_“Good boy, Eren.”_

Fuck.

            I sat up, looking at my dick in my hand. I had cum sliding down the shaft, onto my fingers. I reached over to my nightstand and grabbed a couple tissues. I wiped the warm cum off my dick and then my hand. I tossed the tissue and sighed. I just got off on gay thoughts. I arched my back and tugged up my boxers. I kicked my pants to the floor.

            I removed my shirt, completing the process of getting ready for bed. My legs were still a little shaky from masturbating, but it’ll pass like always. I plugged in my phone and set it next to the box of tissues. I was surprised I didn’t get a goodnight text from Armin. He always sends one, even if I had just seen him. Did the kiss maybe freak him out? He did kick me out of his car pretty quickly.

            I felt a twinge of guilt. My head was telling me that I fucked up another friendship by trying to leap into romance. I fucked up with Mikasa and now I ruined this with Armin. I was trying to live without Mikasa, but there’s no way I could even _try_ to live without Armin.

            I pulled out my phone and sent a text to him.

            **Goodnight Armin. I’m sorry about tonight.**

 

            The next morning I still haven’t received a text from him, but the following day, Sunday, Armin asked me if I wanted to get ice cream.

            I was flooded with relief. Saturday was filled with anxiety and self-harming. I freaked out and stayed in bed all day. My head was spinning because I was convinced I lost my best friend. It was a bad night. I was grateful Armin even messaged me, let alone ask me to go out. I texted back immediately, agreeing to have him pick me up around 12pm.

            I quickly stood and, with a wave of excitement, rushed to the bathroom to shower. I felt giddy, but it wasn’t a cutesy, I-have-a-crush excited. I felt more like a schoolgirl on meth who was riding out her high.

            I spent twenty minutes in the shower. I wanted to make sure I smelled fresh and that my down-there area was groomed to perfection—just in case. When I got out of the shower, I brushed my teeth about six times, and I spent another twenty minutes picking out an outfit. I settled on an olive green v-neck shirt with three-quarter sleeves, and a pair of black jeans, paired with my favorite Converse. I clasped the necklace Armin gave me for my birthday around my neck; it was a gold key necklace on a basic silver chain. It was a bit too hipster for my taste, but since Armin got me it, I figured I should show him that I liked it.

            It was 11:45pm when Armin arrived. I was ready at 10:30am, and I was getting anxiety that he wouldn’t show up. Which is a dumb thought because Armin was early to everything. He was even born early.

            Armin’s truck clunked into the driveway. I was waiting impatiently on the porch, and I felt my heart jump into my throat when I saw the familiar orange truck. I happily rushed over and got into the passenger side—my side.

            I couldn’t.

            “Hey, Eren.” Marco’s voice said politely.

            I felt my heart sink into my stomach. Marco? What’s he doing here?

            “Hi.” I growled.

            “Hey, Eren, you gotta ride in the back today.” Armin instructed, reaching over the seat to move his backpack.

            “Why? I always get to sit next to you.” I asked, wondering why I’m getting so defensive over a fucking seat. Why was I pissed off that Marco was here? I know Armin was vague about the invite—“want to meet up for ice cream tomorrow? (:”. It didn’t say “Want to meet up for ice cream tomorrow with Mother fucking Teresa, _Marco_. Prince of fucking _freckles_ ”.

            “Not today.” Armin dismissed.

            I tried to contain my anger and disappointment. I climbed in the back and slammed the door shut. I crossed my arms and stared out the window. Armin pulled out of my driveway and headed to the highway.

            “Seatbelt, please.”

            I don’t know why that pushed me over the edge. Everyone knows Armin is the Adolf Hitler of safety. I knew he would tell me to put my seatbelt on. Why didn’t I?

            “Fuck you.” I snapped.

            Armin stepped on the breaks and turned to look at me. “Are you kidding me right now, Eren? Seatbelt. Please.” He frowned, his blonde eyebrows coming together in irritation.

            I clicked the seatbelt, mumbling about being in a car accident _again_ was as likely as winning the lottery twice. Armin ignored me and drove silently to the ice cream shop.

            Flagon’s Ice Cream Shop was an old, run-down building owned by Flagon Darlett. He was a man in his late 40’s with stringy blonde hair and a goatee. He hated teenagers, but loved our money. When Mikasa, Armin, and I were younger, we messed with him all the time. We used to keep changing our minds about the ice cream flavor we wanted, resulting in him having to throw away cone after cone.

            Flagon wasn’t here today, but a familiar brown ponytail-wearing girl was. Sasha was standing behind the counter with a smile. She waved. “Hey guys! Welcome to Flagon’s. We got three new flavors and oh my god, they’re so good.”

            “I can tell,” Marco said with a laugh, “You got ice cream on your face.”

            Sasha gasped and quickly wiped her mouth. “Shut up. What can I get for you? First round is on me!”

            “I’ll have strawberry.” I replied, shooting a look at Armin. He knows I normally get Oreo. He didn’t look fazed. He ordered his usual, as did Marco. Sasha gave us our cones and we made our way to a picnic table outside the shop. I sat down on one side, Marco on the other. Armin took a seat next to Marco without hesitation.

            I couldn’t hide the falling feeling I was getting in my stomach. I felt disgusted and unwanted. I was uncomfortable, like the third wheel between passionate lovers. My arms itched. I wanted to leave. Marco and Armin exchanged conversation so easily—from books to a movie that was coming out. I flinched once Marco offered to take him. I felt like I just lost my best friend. He was sliding out from between my fingers.

            I stared at my ice cream cone, knowing that I hated strawberry. I just ordered it to make Armin realize that I understand what I may be—and that I’m okay with it. I wanted him to know I was interested in exploring more of that body of his, that I wanted him. Maybe he did understand what I was doing and is purposely ignoring it because he wasn’t interested in me. He didn’t want me.

            “Eren?”

            I lifted my head. “What?”

            “Is that….the necklace I gave you in the 8th grade?” Armin prompted, a small smile spreading across his face. I immediately felt a glimmer of hope and I nodded eagerly.

            “Yes, yes it is!”

            “I can’t believe you still have it. I thought you hated it. I never saw you wear it.”

            “I love it because you gave it to me.” I answered honestly, reaching up to touch the smooth key that rested on my chest. I saw Armin’s face turn a light pink before he hid it behind his ice cream cone.

            Warmth spread through my body. Maybe he wasn’t mad at me after all. Or he was, before he saw the necklace. _Good thinking with the necklace_ , I thought to myself, mentally patting myself on the back.

            After that, conversation went back to just between Armin and Marco. I felt like going home and cutting myself. Clearly Armin was feeling something that he felt the need to bring his crush on our ice cream adventure today. Why did he invite me to come if he was just going to ignore me? I had to figure out what that was about. Armin said something that Marco found funny, and his hand went on Armin’s shoulder in a playful manner, a _flirtatious_ manner. My stomach churned as Armin put his hand over Marco’s. What the fuck was that?

            “I really don’t like scary movies.” Marco had said.

            “I don’t either.” Armin assented.

            _Bullshit._ I thought, _you love scary movies. You made Mikasa and I watch_ Unfriended _three times._

            Marco’s phone, which was placed on the table buzzed. Jean’s ugly fucking mug appeared on the screen along with his God-forsaken name. A burst of laughter—laughter?—erupted in my throat. Oh this was just fucking _perfect._ My strawberry ice cream—which I hated to begin with—became crushed in my fingers. Pink pasty liquid dripped down my fist and I shot Marco the darkest look I could manage.

            “We,” I began, “we agreed not to fucking talk to him.”

            “He’s my best friend…” Marco whispered, avoiding my gaze.

            “Then you aren’t my friend.” I spat. I rose from my seat, flung my ice cream remnants at Marco, and stormed back inside.

            “That was so uncalled for, Eren!” Armin yelled after me. He rushed to get Marco some napkins.

            I felt sick. I felt sick. _I was sick_.

            I was jealous. I was happy. I was pissed. My emotions were streaming through me rapidly. I didn’t understand why this was happening. Why am I out of control?

            “Back for more?” Sasha giggled.

            “Fuck off, pig.”

            “Eren, what the—?”

            I slammed the bathroom door closed and rushed to get my sleeve up. I scratched my arm. I dug my nails in as I clawed, my nail on my middle finger breaking. I choked back the sobs that bubbled in my throat.

            Why am I such an emotional mess?

            The skin on my forearm prickled like a rash. No blood came out, not yet. It was foul. I kept burrowing in further, blood arising, like when you pick a scab. It was a different sensation than using my razor. This wasn’t gory, and the pain was divergent. Scratching burned, while cutting felt like you were sawing your arm off with a spoon. Both were enough for me.

            “Eren.” Armin’s voice echoed in the bathroom.

            I ignored him.

            “Oh, Eren, what happened here?”

            His arms were around me.

            “What did you do?”

            His face was in my hair.

            “I’m sorry.”

            I felt his tears soak my hair.

            “Please don’t hurt yourself again.”

            His lips were on mine.


	9. The Silver Lining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Silver Honda returns.

It’s the words everyone wants to hear.

            “It’s going to be okay.”

            You feel safe. You aren’t alone anymore. A wave of relief washes over you. The wave knocks over the buildings of depression, floods the streets of anxiety, and drowns the demons that occupied your mind. Your heart is pounding at top speed. Your throat catches. Your eyes close, the moments of your friendship play through like a movie. You ponder about when friendship lurched into this odd in-between.

            Armin’s grip on me felt like your childhood blanket wrapped around you. I felt safe and warm, like after you get out of the rain and change into fresh pajamas. Armin smelled like strawberries. I pulled him closer, burying my face in his shoulder.

            “Don’t give up on me.” I murmured, “Too many people already did.”

            “I’ve always been on your team.” Armin whispered back, running his fingers through my hair.

            “And I guess I’ve always played for yours.” I joked half-heartedly. I lifted my head to see Armin smiling.

            “A gay joke? Already? I presume that means you’re feeling better.”

            “This sounds even gayer, but can you hold me a little bit longer…?” I asked.

            Armin nodded quietly and sat completely down, crossing his legs. He tugged me onto his lap where I hung my arms around his shoulders. I hid my face in his neck, inhaling his smell; it reminded me of home. Armin’s hands steadied me, resting on my waist. It was an uncomfortable position, but it felt nice to be so close to someone. I adjusted my legs so they were wrapped around his abdomen. Better.

            “I think I love you more than as a friend, Armin.” I admitted quietly. It felt good saying that, so I said it again. “I love you more than as a friend.”

            “I’ve always loved you more than a friend, Eren. I just never told you.” He responded. Before I could ask why he never did, he said: “I was scared that you’d be creeped out. Plus you were straight and were dating Mikasa.”

            “Were you jealous of Mikasa?”

            “No, because that is whom you wanted to be with; I couldn’t be jealous of someone who made you happy.”

            I nodded silently.

            “I thought you liked Marco.”

            “Oh, I do, but I don’t love him.” He tilted his head back to look at me. I raised my head and our lips met.

            I kissed him softly. My lips were moist from licking them when I was crying. My eyes closed, blinking away the remaining tears. I shifted one arm so I could push the hair from his face. I retracted after a moment and put my forehead to his.

            “Why am I so gay for you?” I breathed.

            “Why do you always have to ruin a moment?” Armin asked with a laugh. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

            After washing my face in the bathroom sink and Sasha wrapping my arm in bandages from the store’s office, Armin, Marco, and I sat ourselves at the corner table in front of the room, close to the counter so Sasha could talk to us without having to leave her station.

            “It’s okay, Eren.” Marco had accepted my apology the second the word ‘sorry’ escaped from my lips. Marco was too kind, too forgiving. Unlike Jean, who was ruthless and savage. He held grudges. Revenge was his favorite game. He has been my worst enemy since elementary school when he said my lunchbox was retarded. He called my Spiderman lunchbox _stupid_. Who got the last laugh, though? _Me._ I did, when I wrote “Jean K.” across a My Little Pony lunchbox so everyone thought it was his. Ever since, Jean and I had been at each other’s throats.

            When Jean met Marco in middle school, I figured Marco was just as horrible as Jean. So, naturally, I began pranking him. I filled his locker with water balloons, stole his gym clothes, ripped his homework up; I fucked that kid _up._ Marco didn’t prank me back, though. No matter what I did, Marco just offered me a kind smile and a ‘good morning, Eren’. That’s when I realized that Marco was Jean’s Armin. We all have those kids in our clique that we just think are far too innocent and pure for this evil, bitter world. Mikasa and I had Armin. Jean and the rest of the jocks—Connie, Annie, Nac, Franz, Samuel, and Reiner—had Marco. The drama geeks—Ymir, Mina, Mylius, Sasha, and Bertholt—had Christa.

            Every clique needed a voice of reason since we were a typical high school group with cliques battling it out—though not with musical numbers like a certain Disney movie that Mikasa was secretly obsessed with. So, those voices of reason—Marco, Armin, and Christa—were needed in order to keep balance.

            “I really didn’t like being called a pig, Eren. You know about my medical condition!” Sasha exclaimed, leaning against the cash register. “I have to eat every couple hours or I’ll pass out!”

            “I know, Sash, and I’m sorry. It was in a fit of rage. You know how I get when it comes to Horse-Face.” I said.

            “Please don’t call him that. You know he doesn’t like it.” Marco interjected.

            “No shit; that’s why I keep calling him that.” I stated, giving him my best ‘duh’ face. My fingers rose off the table, my wrists remaining on it.

            “Well you don’t like it when he calls you ‘Titan Boy’.”

            “Well,” I mocked Marco’s voice, “you don’t know the full story behind that to understand why it pisses me off.”

            “I think I’ll take you guys home now.” Armin replied, sensing the aggression in my voice. “Sasha, the ice cream was delicious as always. Sorry you had to clean up Eren’s little spill…”

            “It’s no problem. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

            Armin gave us both a look that was as hostile as a fluffy kitten. I gave him a sheepish grin and slung my arm around his shoulders. He tries really hard to show his authority.

            Marco stood and gave Sasha a sweet smile. We all walked quickly to Armin’s truck and I stole the front seat, giving Marco a smirk. Though, he didn’t even acknowledge me and climbed into the back.          

            “We have work tomorrow and we all need to be prepared for this.” Armin said softly, turning the key in the ignition. “We have to be on the same team, guys. No more fighting. No more sarcasm. We have got to stick together.”

            “Ay, ay,” I beamed, sliding closer to him.

            I don’t understand why I feel so giddy all of a sudden. Was it because I got Marco to actually get an attitude? Or was it because of the butterflies I got in my stomach whenever Armin looked at me?

            “Shut up.” Armin said, but he was smiling.

            We drove Marco home in silence. After we dropped him off, Armin suddenly got chatty. I wasn’t complaining, though. He rambled on and on about his theories about Levi’s work, and strategies in which we could work in to make the day go by faster. He had plans to talk to Erwin about our pay and how long it would take to pay off the cars. I just nodded, not wanting to interrupt. The sound of his voice made me calm. I started noticing small things about him, like how his nose scrunched together whenever he laughed. Has he always made those cute faces?

            “Can I talk to you?” I interrupted him. He was in the middle of a theory about Erwin’s position in the office. I shifted towards him. Armin kept his gaze locked on the road and he nodded. I swallowed the lump that knotted in the back of my esophagus.

            “I just,” my voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I just really appreciate you.”

            “That’s really sweet, Eren,” Armin shifted his eyes to me and smiled slightly.

            “No,” I shook my head. “I _really_ appreciate you. I’ve become a total mess and I’ve been difficult to be around. I knew it but I couldn’t control it. I just oozed douchey-ness, and I’m so fucking sorry for being a tool to you.”

            “That’s what friends are for.”

            “Friends don’t shove their tongues down their friend’s throat.”

            “That’s what really close friends are for.” Armin joked.

            “I’m being serious, Armin. What are we?” I demanded, gripping the seat tightly.

            Armin stopped and parked. I noticed we were sitting in my driveway. The silver car was still parked on the grass beside the driveway. I ignored it and focused on Armin. He remained silent, sparking irritation in me. I grabbed his arm and he flinched.

            “Armin, answer me.” I barked.

            “I don’t know!” He hollered, snapping his arm out of my hand. He held it close to his chest. “I don’t want—”

            “What?”

            “I don’t want to end up like you and Mikasa,” he replied softly.

            I blinked and sat back. I nodded. “I see.”

            I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice. I don’t know why I was suddenly hostile towards Armin. I wanted to kiss him again, but I know those feelings weren’t in the air. I frightened him. I saw how he was inching away from me, fixing his eyes on the steering wheel. His body was turned away from me. Any second, he was going to kick me out of his truck, and I wouldn’t hear from him again, just like the whole first-kiss thing. Armin was fragile.

            I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I understand where you’re coming from.”

            Armin softed his gaze and turned his head to look at me. I continued.

            “I want to be more than friends, Armin, but it can wait until we both are comfortable with the idea. We’ll take things slow.”

            “Slow,” Armin repeated quietly. He smiled and nodded. “Sounds good.”

            I released a breath of relief. “Alright, you should go home. I’ll see you in the morning. We got school and work tomorrow.”

            “Okay, _Armin_ ,” he grinned, punching me in the forearm lightly. “Get some sleep.”

            “Ditto.”

            I climbed out of Armin’s truck and watched it roll out of the rocky driveway. It tumbled down the street where it would come to a stop at a little yellow house with a white porch swing.

            I felt happy.

           

           

 

 

            I headed into the house and went straight to my bedroom. I shut the door, and went to shut the connecting door to Mikasa’s room. I don’t know why it was opened to begin with.

            I froze.

            I saw Jean sitting on Mikasa’s bed, shirtless. He was drying his hair with a white towel, his body still dripped with water. He had another towel around his waist. Mikasa’s bed was a mess, with clothes scattered about.

            _There’s no doubt what they’ve been up to,_ my conscience jabbed.

            I felt my hands form to fists, my nails digging into my palms. My stomach felt like it just rode the World’s Tallest Roller Coaster with the way it dropped. My heart turned into overdrive to supply the blood to my head. I felt the color fade from my face.

            It all made sense.

            Jean drove a fucking silver Honda.

            “You fucker.” I said eerily calm. My body was reeling me back. My heart pushed me forward but it was my fist that pushed forward into Jean’s smug smirk.

            Everything went black.


	10. The Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some action. (Trigger Warning!)

            I remember having my hands around Jean’s throat. I remember feeling his wet body beneath me as his hands frantically clawed at my face. I remember him trying to scream for Mikasa, who was still in the bathroom. I remember feeling the water dampen my clothes the harder I pressed myself against Jean.

            I wanted to kill him. I wanted to see the light die in his tiny hazel eyes. I wanted to see the color fade from his cheeks. I don’t know why I didn’t kill him right then and there.

            I don’t remember how I was stopped. Bits and pieces of memory return as I sit on the stool in the kitchen with my mom, Mikasa, and Jean. Mikasa came out of the bathroom, looking beautiful in her red robe that she got for Christmas. Her long black hair, freshly blow-dried, was tied in a bun on her head. Her face was flushed and glowing. I remember her calling my name, and I remember the swelling in my chest, making my heart stop. I remember my grip softening as I turned to gaze upon Mikasa, and Jean turning over to pin me down.

            We now were gathered around the high top table in the kitchen. Mikasa and Jean were sitting on one side. Jean was fully clothed now, but his hair was still moist. His face was red and clammy, his throat an odd hue of purple and yellow. My mom was standing at the end of the table, her arms crossed. Her black/brown hair was pulled in a side braid and her normal sundress was traded in for a long pink nightgown. I sat twiddling my thumbs and staring down at the table.

            “…And he just cursed at me, punched me, and next thing I knew, I couldn’t breathe.” Jean was saying.

            “I came out of the bathroom and saw Eren on top of Jean. Eren was choking him,” Mikasa added.

            I lifted my head to look at Mikasa. Seeing her was painful. I just wanted to punch her and kiss her. My heart was torn. I remained silent, because I knew I was in the wrong. I shouldn’t have attacked Jean, but Jean shouldn’t have been in my house. Why did Mom allow him to stay the night? Didn’t she realize I still was wounded? The scars were forming, but seeing Jean and Mikasa together ripped out the stitches of my heart. I kept trying to play off Mikasa as the bitch and Jean as the prick to make myself feel better. It didn’t help. The only way I felt numb was when I was with Armin or when I was slitting my wrists.

            “Eren,” Mom started, “why did you go into Mikasa’s room?”

            “I didn’t. I was just going to shut the connecting door.” I answered honestly. I lowered my gaze away from Mikasa’s glare.

            “Why was it open, Mikasa?” My mom shifted the questioning. I was glad to have the eyes off of me.

            “I don’t know.”

            “Mikasa.” Mom prompted.

            “I had to get something.” Mikasa shrugged, trying to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal.

            Mom didn’t let it slide. “What was it?”

            “Mom,” she argued.

            “Mikasa, what did you have to get from Eren’s room?”

            “A condom, okay?!” She shouted, pushing herself away from the table. She stood. “I had to get a condom so I could have sex with Jean! It’s my right to do so! Jean left his wallet in the Honda and I knew Eren had some!”

            My mom didn’t even blink. She took a deep breath and released. “Eren, why didn’t you just shut the door and go to bed?”

            I was appalled. Is she fucking serious? Why didn’t I shut the door? _Why didn’t I just shut the door?!_ Because unlike Panic! At The Disco, I have a _very_ hard time closing goddamn doors; especially when I see my worst enemy in my ex-girlfriend’s room, sitting naked on her bed. Not to mention, I don’t sleep at 8pm like my mother.

            “Are you kidding me, Mom?!” I demanded. “How could I?! It’s not easy coming home from a nice day to seeing this fucking horse in my girl’s room!”

            “I am not your girl, Eren!” Mikasa shouted.

            “Shut up, you titan-ass bitch!” Jean defended, standing up as well, his palms slamming on the table.

            “That was one time!” I screamed.

            “Enough!” Mom ordered.

            She sighed and lowered her voice, though that didn’t make it less threatening.

            “Mikasa, apologize to Eren.” Mom instructed.

            I was boiling with rage. Not only did I get to see Jean half-naked, but Mikasa went in my room to find a condom. I felt violated. How many drawers did she have to go through in order to find them? Did she find my razor blades and the bloody washcloth? My heart dropped.

            “Hell no. Why should I?” She countered.

            “I don’t want her apology.” I stated. I rose from my seat and calmly pushed it in. I looked at my mother. “I am just going to…go to my room.”

            Mom gave me a puzzled look and nodded slowly. “Okay, baby. Get some rest.”

            I walked to my room, trying not to break into a run. I felt all of their eyes watch me cross the kitchen and into my bedroom. I shut the door quietly.

            Now I was panicking.

            I rushed to shut the connecting door and then I bolted to my nightstand. I flung the drawer open, causing it to nearly flop out of its designated cubby. It hung limply on its hinges as I frantically searched its contents. I discovered the usual belongings: magazines, a textbook, pencils, etc.

            _And Bingo was his name-o,_ I thought, delicately holding up the razor blade I had removed from my drawer. I have not used it in one whole day, thanks to Armin. I placed it back down in the drawer and slammed it closed. As it shut, I noticed a line of shiny objects fling to the back. Bewildered, I gingerly opened it to discover a string of condoms.

            This could only mean one thing.

            _Mikasa knew I cut myself._

            I knew it wasn’t a godsend, but I’m sure it can’t completely be a bad thing. If she knew that I was cutting, she would know it was all her fault. Maybe then she will try to fix it.

            Armin’s face flashed in my mind. His sweet smile, his big eyes, his blonde hair. I felt safe with him. Armin was a blessing. He was accepting, caring, and supportive. I enjoyed his kiss, his touch. It was exhilarating being near him. My breath caught, my hands trembled, and I felt like I was on a cloud. I have known Armin my whole life, but now it’s like meeting him for the first time again. I noticed the small things about him that I have never seen before. I caught myself loving everything about him, how he bit his lip when he was thinking; how his nose crinkled when he laughed; how when he smiled, he smiled wide; and how his touch left goosebumps on my body. I loved the awkward kisses, the way his small body pressed against mine. I felt myself blushing when I felt his knee in between my thighs. What we had was confusing and new, but it was exciting.

            Mikasa was mysterious. I never understood what she was thinking. Everything was a secret. Words we exchanged were hushed whispers. I felt like Romeo and she was my Juliet, though I prayed for a better ending. Mikasa was dangerous. Her smirk was something you would kill for. Her touch was hot, her kiss orgasmic. Her body was perfect, curves in the right places. It seemed like she had no flaws. Mikasa was a goddess and her body was a religion. Her sex was a prayer answered, her voice was a hymn. Mikasa’s love was a poison apple that I happily ate. I was on the edge of my seat with her. I didn’t know what was to come. When I saw her coming my way, I didn’t know whether I should be happy or scared. That feeling was like a puff of the best cigarette; it was deadly but enjoyable. What we had was a masterpiece that was torn at the seams.

            My choice was clear.

            A sharp knock on my bedroom door startled me. I slammed the drawer shut and tried to sit on my bed as casually as possible. I flicked the TV on.

            “Who is it?” I asked, my voice trembling.

            Instead of getting an answer, the door opened.

            Mikasa sheepishly walked in. I frowned.

            “Get out.” I snapped, sitting up straight. I became angry. “I don’t want to see you.”

            “Eren.”

            To my surprise, her voice sounded somber. I froze and tilted my head to the side.

            She continued.

            “I know what you’ve been doing. It’s my fault isn’t it?” She took a step forward, and naturally, I crawled backwards to get farther from her. She exhaled and walked to me. She sat on my bed and faced me. “I want your forgiveness.”

            “You’re not going to get it.” I finally spat. I was uncomfortable.

            “I realized my mistake.”

            I shook my head. This had to be a dream. I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want her here. I didn’t want to be near anyone right now.

            “Eren, I’m sorry.”

            “You’re not.” I stated, staring at her in disbelief. I noticed I was shaking.

            Mikasa placed her hand against my cheek, her thumb touching my parted lips.

            “I don’t want Jean; I want you.”

            “Get off me,” I breathed.

            Mikasa cocked her eyebrow and a smile spread across her face. “That really didn’t sound convincing.”    

            I wanted to vomit. I felt my stomach spinning. My throat was dry. The air was thick and heavy. Mikasa leaned in close, her lips against mine. “Tell me to get off.” She whispered.

            My eyes fluttered closed as I felt her tongue trace my bottom lip. I felt her hand push my chest. I fell back onto my pillows, but I felt like I was pushed off a building.

            “Mikasa,” I protested, trying to find the inspiration to push her away. She was on top of me. Mikasa was kissing me. I felt her manicured nails dig into my stomach as she pulled my shirt up. “I don’t want this. Stop.”

            “I don’t believe it.”

            “You should.”

            “Then push me off.” She commanded, straddling my hips. She snatched my hand and placed it on her breast. “See? You aren’t resisting.”

            I don’t know why my brain stopped working. I closed my eyes and thought of anything else. I didn’t want her. I made up my mind. I forced myself to move on. I didn’t want her anymore. Right?

_Right?_

            “Let me ride you, Eren.” Her voice was close to my ear.

            “Mikasa,” I groaned.

            Her lips against mine brought the feeling of mystery back. Our lips striking against each other reminded me of how I confessed to her in 8th grade. Her hips crushed mine as she grinded against me. I found my hands cupping her boobs, feeling them above her tank top. She wasn’t wearing a bra. As my thumb grazed her tit, I felt an odd shape on her nipple. Mikasa moaned in response. A nipple piercing.

            _Oh hell yeah._

            We broke apart so she could remove my shirt. Regret filled me as her pierced tongue carved into every crevice of my stomach. This was wrong.

            I was battling myself.

            _This was what I wanted, right?_

            My hips jutted out as her hand slipped into my pants. Her face was back to mine and her teeth were on my neck.

            _What about Armin?_

            Mikasa’s shirt was on the floor. My jeans were working their way down my knees.

            _I wanted Armin._

            Warmth and wetness were all I felt on my cock. Mikasa was sucking my dick.

            _I fought too hard to get her back._

            I tugged her hair and tilted my head back.

            _We can get crazy just once._

I was hard. I shoved her head down, forcing her to take my full length in. I felt her cheeks hollow as she gagged.

            _Did you ever gag on Jean’s cock?_ I wanted to ask, but the words weren’t coming out.

            Mikasa’s head was expertly moving up and down, my cock rubbing against the walls of her mouth. I feel her tongue piercing slide around my shaft and I raise my knees, my toes clinching with pleasure.

            _This is wrong._

            My breathing intervals became shortened and I projected my hips forward. I was reaching my limit.

            _You have to stop her._ _She isn’t yours._

            “Hah…Mnn…” Mikasa whimpered as I came into her mouth.

            “Fu…fuck, Armin,” I panted, my head winding back to feel the comfort of the fluffy pillows.

            “Wah—?”

            _Oops._

Mikasa popped my dick out of her mouth like a lollipop and sat away from me.

            “Armin?” She asked, semen dripping from her jaw.

            “Mikasa,” I said, panicking. What was I going to say?

            “So that’s what you’ve been up to.” She replied, wiping her chin. “Figures.”

            I was speechless.

            “How could I not tell you were a faggot? Shit, I figured you were all emo because I was gone. I thought I would tell Jean to go to his place to give you space and I would catch up with him later, after I apologized to you. I come in here, wanting to apologize—”

            “—You call _that_ apologizing?!” I interjected, snorting.

            “I was giving you what you wanted.”

            “Does Jean know about your ‘apology’?”

            “No, and he isn’t going to.”

            “What if I tell him?” I challenged.

            “I’ll tell him that you’re gay now. I really don’t think that the boys will like a faggot hanging out in the locker room.” Mikasa snapped, crossing her arms.

            I shut my eyes. She was right; the guys in my gym class will never accept me. Sure, they’ll say they support me, just like they supported Armin, but they won’t be the same. There will be more tension. The atmosphere will be awkward and jokes will be forced. Mikasa had me beat.

            I took a deep breath. “Can you go now?”

            “Yeah.” She grumbled, rising from the bed. She snatched her shirt from the floor. “Listen, Eren, I really am sorry. It’s obvious I still care about you. I did have moments where I missed you, missed _us_. It’s for the best that we never are together again.”

            That felt like a bullet through the heart. I stared at the door and whispered, “Alright, see ya.”

            “Eren,” Mikasa placed her hand on my head and ruffled my hair. Smiling, she said, “I really hope things can get better between us. I’m only being a bitch to help you move on.”

            “I don’t understand that.”

            “I don’t understand you.” She retorted, “I didn’t know you were gay. When did that happen?”

            I shrugged, “When you decided to cheat on me.”

            “Touché.”

            “Enough small talk. It’s annoying. Bye,” I smacked her hand away from me and she laughed.

            “You really are cute when you’re mad.”

            “Please don’t suck my dick again.”

            Mikasa laughed again and made her way out the door, adjusting her tank top.

            When she was gone, I was crying. Why was I so desperate? I thought that I wanted Mikasa back. I wanted her to come to me and beg to be forgiven. I wanted to be with her one last time. I almost let her. Why did I stop?

            Now that she was gone, I felt like she broke up with me again. The wound was ripped open and I was bleeding. Seeing her face was a punch in the gut, but her lips against mine were like fire. I felt like the walls were closing in on me. My heart was thumping loudly in my chest and I felt my face heat up. My palms were sweating. I felt a mix of emotions, like a cocktail of despair and anger. The cries became sobs as I sank down back on my bed. I tugged up my pants, feeling pathetic.

            She knew I was cutting. She thought, confidently, that it was because of her. She was right. I wasn’t cutting because I was bisexual; honestly, that fact didn’t bug me so much. I was happy that I had a label now. I know most teenagers hate being branded. The hipster grunge kids on Tumblr declare to smash down the labels that society gives us. I find them comforting. I know where I belong now. I know who I am. Sure, I’m not like every bisexual person, but I know what we have in common. Mikasa made me feel uncomfortable with that fact. She threatened to tell people that I was gay, which isn’t entirely true. Things will be different once Armin and I begin whatever it is that we’re doing. The other guys will know that I swing partly that way, but they won’t be apprehensive because I was in a relationship, just like how girls were when a guy they like is in a relationship. The lingering question was why I thought it was a grand idea to even start this nasty habit.

            I was cutting because Mikasa made me feel things too powerful to express with words.

            I like to play off that she is a bitch, but I couldn’t do that before, and I do not think I could start to now. I couldn’t stop her from giving me a blowjob because part of me _wanted_ her to keep going. That just showed that I was in love with her still. Those were solid facts, and she knows that, too. I hated her. I hated Mikasa, but I loved her _so much._

            A surge of anger and confusion ran through me.

            I opened the drawer.

            _Everything was red._

            I ripped my skin open. A searing pain spread across my arms. A hot chill shivered down my spine like a ghost possessing me. I felt the blood pooling on my arm, and with a flick of my wrist, the blood dripped down to my jeans.

_My hands._

            _Her lips._

            _My blade._

_Her scarf._

_My jeans._

I felt the adrenaline pump through my veins, blood spurting out slowly. I sucked in a breath as I reopened the cuts that were just starting to heal from the other day. Those hurt much worse than making new marks. The blade was so sharp that it sliced easily, though made it sting like a paper cut. Enjoying that sensation made me go deeper than I planned, but it was too late to stop now.

            _I was red._


	11. The Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit I'm writing again! I know it's been forever. I promise to write more. I just had the WORST case of writer's block in history. But I'm back now with Tuesday updates. Originally this chapter was going to be a flashback chapter, detailing Eren and Mikasa's past relationship, but I discovered that it was one of my problems! I had NOTHING! No creative juices flowing through me. I considered just winging it just put out something. Then I remembered I half-assed everything else in my life, so why should I half-ass something I actually LIKE?? So I deleted the whole three pages I wrote, and put the idea on the shelf until I could muster the creativity to do it. I made up for it though by giving you some interactions with Levi. Who, by the way, is the hardest character to write EVER. He is MAD criticized in the fanfiction community and it makes me extremely nervous to write him, but he will obviously be a main character. ANYWAY! Enough of my blabbering; here's Chapter Eleven. And as always, TRIGGER WARNING!!!

            Monday came. I truly didn’t think that was such a possibility, considering how I destroyed myself last night. I woke up to the stinging all over my body. I didn’t even have to look to know how bad the cuts were.

            I sat up, almost immediately regretting it. Pain shot through my body like an electric shock. I laid back down and huffed a deep breath. Today was going to be difficult. I rolled to my side, clutching one of my many pillows. I looked at the small alarm clock on my night stand; blinking in red was the numbers “6:32”. My alarm was set to 7am, but I was in too much pain to go back to sleep.

“Get up, Jaeger. It’s a new day. Face it,” I reminded myself, hurling my body up so I was sitting with my legs lying straight out, my thin blanket tangled around me. The sheets were stained a deep brown—dried blood. Yikes.

            I was in my underwear still, with no other clothes besides my white Nike tube socks. My thighs were decorated in new cuts, crusty with a half-ass attempt from my body to have them scab up overnight. I gently poked them, hissing at the small but sharp burning feeling. I touched my chest, feeling the ridges of thin but deep slashes. My arms were the worst. They were raw, scars reopened with fresh slices on top. My arms looked like they caught a grenade as it exploded. The skin was more pink than tan.

            I peeled myself from my bed, and stumbled to my bathroom. I didn’t even want to look in the mirror.

            I knew the monster I would see.

             I turned the shower on, making it as cold as possible. The cuts couldn’t handle the burn of the water, much less the thick steam.

            I sat naked on the ground, digging through the contents of the first aid kit that was under the sink. I would have to run to the store after school and pick up more alcohol prep pads and Band-Aids.

            I immediately remembered that after school, I had to go to work.

            I wanted to smash my fucking face against the counter.

            School was something I dreaded, but going to work for _who knows how long_ will be worse. I’m going to look like some _Orange Is The New Black_ bitch in my jumpsuit, carrying chemicals I don’t know how to use, and cleaning up _God knows what_. Levi and Erwin never established what type of business they run, and the more I think about it, the more scared I become.

            At least Armin will be okay. If this business turns out to be something I’d see in _The Godfather_ , the ones who usually get killed are the simple janitors and messengers. Armin will be working one-on-one with Levi, so he’ll be protected.

            I smiled slightly, thinking about Armin in a three-piece black suit, with his blond hair pulled back into a tiny ponytail. I can see him perched at a desk, his fingers laced together, his chin resting upon his hands, lost in thought.

            “ _An offer you can’t refuse,_ ” I mumbled, wincing as I stood. My body was sticky from dried blood and I felt like I received a sun burn from Hell.

            I cautiously stepped into the shower. I hated the cold, so I made my shower fairly quick. The worst part was scrubbing the dried blood and newly formed scabs. The water ran red and I wanted to gag at the metallic smell that filled the air. I shivered as the cold water drizzled down my neck, making the hairs stand up. I shampooed my hair and rinsed, my eyes fixated on the ceiling. I had an audience of a small Daddy Long Leg spider, relaxing in the corner.

            “Pervert—OWW!” I flung my hands to my face, my right eye twitching uncontrollably. I snapped my head down and reached one arm out to blindly grab the towel I had laid on the toilet. I wiped at my shampooed eye as I slammed the faucet off.

            I already hated today.

            I decided to bring my winter clothes out, even though it was September. Long jeans that hung loosely at my waist. A grey sweater that was too big for me. A matching beanie. The blandest clothes I owned, but at least they didn’t feel tight on my body. I finally had to face myself in mirror as I brushed my teeth.

            My face looked fine. My skin wasn’t radiant or glowing, like it does after I spend time with Armin. My eyes were sullen and clouded; my right eye was still pink from when I got shampoo in it, but I figured that was the least of my injuries. I spit and rinsed my mouth out, and put on some ChapStick on my lips, since they were dry and I wouldn’t want to kiss Armin with some dry, cactus lips. Gross.

            I wandered back into my room and stripped the sheets off of my bed. I don’t think they could be washed, so I crumbled them into a ball the size of a basketball in my hands and stuffed them into my backpack. On my way to school, I’ll dump it in the trash. I stepped out into the hall, doing a double take to make sure Mikasa or Mom weren’t lurking about. My coast was clear, and I quietly opened the hallway closet and retrieved fresh sheets.

            On my way back to my room, I bumped into someone.

            “Why are you up so early?” A deep voice asked, their hands on my shoulders to steady me.

            Dad.

            “It’s like, six-something and I get up at seven, so it’s not _that_ early. Why are you here?”

            “I live here.”

            “I nearly forgot,” I snapped. I sidestepped around him and walked back to my room.

            Seeing Dad was a rare occurrence. He’s a “ _Doctor Without Borders_ ” and travels around the world to give people without insurance checkups, medicine, surgeries, all that they needed from a doctor for free. The main office is located in Switzerland, so he’s usually stationed there, but he does come home sometimes. I dislike him mostly because he travels too much, is never home for holidays or birthdays, and when he is home, he fights with my mom. Then he leaves again. I truly don’t know why Mom is still married to him. Mikasa and I once told her that she should start going on dates because she deserves to be with a man that appreciates her beauty, but she refused because she still loves my dad. She thinks that it’s amazing what he does for a living, even though it takes a toll on their marriage.

            But that doesn’t mean that I can’t _hate_ him for the same reason. I don’t think that my dad does what he does to save people in need. I think he does it to get out of this town, to get away from us, and to fuel his ego and make people think he’s a good person. To me, someone who isn’t around for his kids isn’t a good person.

            I made my bed as best as I could. I even straightened up my room a bit so my mom wouldn’t have a reason to come in.

            “ _It was the heat of the moment,”_ my clock wailed, “ _telling me what your heart meant._ ”

            I jumped in surprise and turned to face the clock that was singing at a particularly loud level. 7:00am. I forgot to turn my alarm off when I woke up.

            “ _The heat of the moment shone in your eyes.”_

I hit snooze and grabbed my phone that was charging next to it. I texted Armin:

            **Good morning, handsome. Ready to be the assistant for _The Godfather_?**

I felt slightly better, but the small stinging all over my body was a reminder of what’s to come for today.

            I threw my backpack onto my bed and stuffed my phone charger and headphones into the front pocket. I stared at my nightstand drawer for a moment, debating on packing a small razor to bring to school with me.

            The tri-tone beeped in my pocket.

            **Totally. Woke up next to a decapitated horse head in my bed and everything!!! Lol. It wont be SOOO bad, Eren.**

            I grinned and went to text back a witty comment about a certain horse I knew of, when I received a second message.

            **Wanna head out early & maybe grab some Mickey D’s for breakfast? I’ve been up since like 4 & I don’t feel like waiting to see you…**

            My heart thumped in my chest. Cheeks red, I responded immediately.

            **Hell yeah, sign me the fuCK UP THAT’S SOME GOOD SHIT**

            I didn’t want to admit that I was smiling like an idiot.

            I made my way outside, hoping to avoid Mikasa in case she didn’t leave last night. I tried not to think about her or the fact that she sucked my dick. I don’t know how I will face seeing her today at school. Luckily, my journey outside was a success.

            I tossed the sheets in the big green plastic garbage can on the side of the house and sat on the porch chair that was on the small patch of cement near my front door. I checked the time again and saw Armin texted me eight times in the past three minutes.

**You’re such a dork, lol.**

**EREN MY FUCKING TRUCK IS GONE**

**EREN**

**EREN ANSWER ME**

**WHAT DO I DO???**

**SOMEONE TOOK MY TRUCK**

**IM CRYING RIGHT NOW I DONT WANT TO WAKE UP GRANDPA**

**EREN SHOULD I CALL 911?**

**IM CALLING 911**

**LEVI IS HERE WTF**

I blinked. Armin’s truck is gone? Levi is at Armin’s?

            I dropped my backpack and booked it down the street.

            My mind was full of question marks. Why would Levi, the last man I wanted to see, be at my Armin’s house at seven o’clock in the morning? And Armin’s truck is missing? Why do I feel like Levi is responsible for that?

            I was halfway down the street when I saw a shiny black Lincoln Town Car driving at incredibly slow speed towards me. It was _too_ fancy of a car to be in _this_ neighborhood. My breathing hitched as it stopped and its tinted passenger window rolled down. Armin’s blond head popped out and was smiling big.

            “Eren!”

            “Armin,” I panted. “What happened to your truck?”

            Levi leaned forward in the driver’s seat, staring me down. I shifted anxiously.

            “Get in, loser.”

            I silently obliged, climbing into the backseat. The seats were a strange black fabric that even _felt_ expensive. It was probably European material, designed by God. I took a deep breath and said, “My backpack is still at home.”

            “Why?” Levi and Armin asked in unison. Levi shot Armin a look and in return, Armin flushed pink and turned away.

            “I thought you were going to hurt Armin. I ran as fast as I could,” I answered honestly. I covered my mouth with my hand. I don’t know why I can’t bring myself to lie to Levi. His presence was so strong, and it was scary. He was shorter than average and on the skinny side, but I knew how threatening he was. I felt his punch. I’m glad the bruises faded, but I had a feeling that Levi just _knew_ how hard to punch so that it wouldn’t leave a mark. It was a chilling thought.

            “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he responded, seemingly unfazed by my comment. “He made me coffee,” he continued.

I thought I saw him smile in the rearview mirror.

I had a million questions zooming through my mind, but I started with:

            “Can you tell me why you picked us up? You don’t seem like the soccer mom type.”

            “I’m more of a baseball gal.”

            “I’m being serious.”

            “I know.” He parked the car in my driveway. As I opened the door to step out, he said: “Last night, I sent some of my men to come get the truck. I can’t believe you still drove that thing around…Anyway, it’s being fixed today. I was going to have Hanji pick you up to take you to school, but I decided to do it myself.”

            I shut the door before I could ask why. I wasn’t sure if I wanted an answer.

            I walked to get my backpack that was slumping sadly in the grass. As I crossed in front of the car, Levi honked the horn, scaring the shit out of me. I cursed under my breath, wondering why Levi decided to be funny, and dare I say, _kind_ today. I couldn’t decide if I liked this nice Levi or not. I mean, it beats him punching me in the face, but it made me feel perturbed. I was on edge whenever he was around. I don’t know if that was influenced by the car accident, or the fight, or that I know nothing about him. He was a stranger, a stranger I was indebted to.

            I climbed in the car just in time to hear Levi say: “Eren does look like a twink.”

            I got back out and slammed the door. My cheeks were aflame. Why was Armin being so talkative? Why, of all subjects, does he choose _sex_ to talk about? Especially with Levi?

            The window was down again and Armin was _laughing_.

            “Get in the car. We’re done talking about it. Sorry.” Armin’s voice was as soft as honey. I knew he was embarrassed; he had to be. Armin doesn’t talk about sex, and when someone like Reiner or Connie joked about it, he would blush and change the subject. But with _Levi_? Armin might as well put a paper bag over his head and confess his sins to a priest.

            We rode in silence. The radio was playing some rock song I never heard of, full of whiny guitar riffs, deep vocals, and lovey-dovey song lyrics. I was thinking “ _not my type of music_ ”, but then I remembered that I have an Asia song as my alarm, so I kept quiet and played with a loose thread on the seat. My arms were stinging pretty badly and my sweater was sticking to my body. I didn’t wrap the cuts up because I was out of Band-Aids. It would be too suspicious to ask Levi to pull into a Walgreens, and I didn’t have the balls to lie to him. I’ll just have to pray that someone doesn’t grab my arm so the wounds won’t burst open again. I didn’t want to think about _why_ those cuts were there. I didn’t want to think about Mikasa at all, let alone her full pink lips wrapped around my cock, her tongue flickering out like the snake she was to lick up the cum, _my cum._ I cringed at the thought and pulled the fiber completely out of the seat. I flicked the small string to the floor and gazed at Levi in the rearview mirror.

            “Where’s the Mercedes?” I found myself asking.

            “In the shop with Armin’s truck.”

            “How many cars do you have?” Armin queried excitedly. He had been quiet ever since I got back into the car. It makes me wonder what type of conversation those two have been having this morning.

            “Six. I sometimes drive Erwin’s cars though. He has four.” Levi answered, turning right onto the road to the nearest McDonald’s. I guessed Armin told him about our little morning meet-up, though I wasn’t too thrilled to have _him_ join us.

            “How rich are you?” I inquired rhetorically, rolling my eyes. I leaned my elbow on the doorframe and stared out the window. We just turned into McDonald’s small parking lot.

            “Very,” Levi responded anyway, and parked the Lincoln. “Go have your little date. I’ll wait here.”

            “Are you sure you don’t want to eat with us?” Armin invited kindly. I expected as much, but I shot him a look regardless. Levi saw it.

            “Pretty sure. I don’t eat this trash.” Levi’s eyes never left mine. I felt embarrassed and forced myself to look away. I felt like I’ve been caught cheating on a math test, and Levi was the disappointed teacher. His grey eyes held so much mystery to them. I couldn’t read the emotion—if there was any—in his glare. His voice seemed monotone, like he really didn’t care, but his body language was different, like he was ready to get out of the Town Car with us.

            “I’ll buy you a hashbrown.” I offered, feeling guilty. Removing myself from the car, I joined hands with Armin as we made our way to the Golden Arches.

After ordering more food than I’d like to admit and finding a booth farthest away from the elderly reading the morning paper, I finally decided to lean over the table and kiss Armin. His cheeks turned pink and he raised his fingers to his face.

            “What was that for?”

            I shrugged, attempting to be romantic, and bit into my McGriddle. This felt right, good. I liked the feeling of Armin’s lips. They weren’t full and glossy, like any other girl’s, because, well, _Armin wasn’t a girl._ There was something about kissing a guy that felt exciting. I knew that it was _technically_ against my parents’ Catholic code, but I don’t think my mom would stop me. Dad, on the other hand, he might say something about it. I mentally shrugged it off, because 1) Dad was never home anyway, and 2) Armin and I weren’t even dating.

            As I chewed my pancake sandwich, I just silently gazed at my Armin. I always knew he was an attractive boy, but the more I looked at him, the more I realized that I loved him. The stupid things that didn’t even make sense—the tiny, _tiny_ freckle on his left eyebrow; the little snaggletooth on his top row of teeth that protrudes slightly; the fucking _dimples_ when he smiles—I love it. Before I realized how gay I was for him, I just figured those were nice qualities, and now I can’t stop thinking about kissing that freckle, those dimples, wanting him to bite my neck with those perfectly imperfect teeth.

            And how could he just sit there, totally quiet and normal, munching on his short stack of pancakes that he brutally fucking drowned in syrup, and not see how beautiful he was? He wasn’t hot like a male model, but he was geeky-hot, like a typical boy-next-door. He was a boy that you could bring home to your mom and she’d immediately start planning your wedding. I couldn’t describe it.

            I blinked and realized Armin’s lips were moving.

            “—And it was so crazy! I was crying, of course, and when I went in from the side door, I saw Levi sitting on my couch.”

            “Wait, what?” I asked, confused.

            Armin sighed. “When I went out the side door this morning, to where the truck is usually parked, I saw it was missing. I texted you and I was a mess, then I went inside to use the house phone to call the police, and Levi was on my couch. He looked so out of place, _my_ _God._ ”

            “How’d he get in?”

            “I must’ve left the front door unlocked.” He replied sheepishly. I glared at him.

            “Then what?”

            “Well, I said, ‘oh, hello, Levi. Want some coffee?’” He laughed. I didn’t.

            Furrowing my brow, I sipped my orange juice. “So some guy that beat you up a few days ago breaks into your home and you _offer him coffee_?” I was astounded.

            “Well, he is our boss, and I might as well get used to making him coffee.”

            “You’re an assistant, Armin, not a fucking slave!” I defended. An old African American woman glanced at us and I lowered my voice. “I don’t know why you agreed to this, honestly. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

            “I do, Eren,” Armin replied confidently. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and took a long slurp of his iced coffee. “Do you know what _you’re_ doing?”

            There was something about the tone of his voice that made me feel like we weren’t talking about work anymore, so I didn’t have a comeback. I crumbled the McGriddle wrapper into a ball and rose from my seat to throw it in the trash. When I turned around, Armin was standing behind me. I yelped and knocked into the trash can, making the cuts on my upper thigh send a chilly spark of pain down my leg. I bit my tongue to keep from crying out. I glared down at Armin, who, in return, wrapped his arms around my waist and pressed his chin into my chest, gazing up at me with childlike eyes.

            “Sorry for giving you attitude. I just want you to have faith in me.”

            “I do have faith in you!” I objected, my hands curving around him and tugging his small body closer to me.

            “Then stop questioning my motives. I have a plan, you know.”

            “And what’s that?”

            “It’s a secret,” Armin whispered. He placed a small kiss on my lips before dancing off to the door. He dangled Levi’s hashbrown, secured in the white wrapper with a big yellow M, in front of his face. “Ready to go?”

            I nodded. I felt apprehensive again. I trusted Armin with my life, but I felt like Armin wasn't king in this chess match. I felt like Levi could see through all of us; he was playing his own game. I can read people better than Armin, and Levi looks dangerous. I just hope that Armin’s ability to see the best in everyone trumps my gut feeling.

            But I doubt it.


End file.
